Witches, Werewolves, and Walkers, Oh My!
by Jane.Casper
Summary: When a renegade witch-turned-werewolf and her son, on the run, settle in the Tri-Cities, they stumble upon Samuel Cornick. Will he give them up to the Marrok? Find out! R&R, rating may go up. Note: I do not own any characters/events made by P. Briggs.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Just so everyone knows, the main character's name is Siobhan. It's Irish, and if you have trouble figuring out how to pronounce it, it sounds like Shivaun. Why didn't I use a simpler spelling? Because her family is supposed to be a more traditional Irish witch clan that moved to New York, that's why! And being Irish in descent, myself, I didn't feel like changing the Gaelic spelling to an Anglicized version. Enjoy!_

Chapter 1

"Mama?" My son, Caleb, only seven years old, was holding his face in his small hands and squeezing my cheeks together. Still groggy, I opened my eyes to find him only five or six inches away from my face. He had a haunted yet determined look on his face.

"Wha's wrong, sweetie?" I asked, trying to blink myself awake. He bit his lip, his chestnut hair falling in his green eyes.

"Um . . . I got cold . . . and I couldn't sleep, so I came to check up on you, Mama." My little trooper. He always said something like that when he'd had a nightmare. I smiled, and decided to play along.

"Really? Caleb, that's so thoughtful . . . You know, I was actually getting a little scared. Do you want to stay here and keep Mama safe, sweetie?" He nodded eagerly, and I flipped open the covers so he could climb up and snuggle in. I loved my son so much; he sometimes brought up bad memories, though.

As Caleb snuggled up against me, it reminded me of his conception in New York, right before he was born.

As a member of one of the more powerful witch clans, I was a prime target for a shot against my family. Coming from Ireland, my family had made our home in New York, around seventy years ago. Years later, when I was seventeen, I was off to work when I had been attacked by a man around my age from one of our rival clans. My powers had been neutralized, and my martial arts training couldn't come in handy considering he'd jumped me, carried me off, and tied me to a bed. Nine months later, my little Caleb had been born into the Ravenwood clan. I didn't talk about his conception, and I had refused my parents in their pleas to get rid of him. I had wanted a son anyway, and this gave me an excuse to fly under the radar. Caleb was a long standing name, and it had also been my grandfather's. He'd been the only one to side with me in keeping my son, my own flesh and blood. I loved him all the more for it.

So I had continued to raise my little boy. I got a better job and started taking college classes at night. Grandpa helped me with Caleb while I was at work or school and I'd settled into a routine. If not for Grandfather, my parents probably would have disowned me for keeping their grandson just because he was fathered by someone from an enemy clan. Instead, they didn't have to use that as a way to get me out of New York.

Two years after my first accident, when I was nineteen, I had been mauled by a rogue Werewolf. He'd been totally lost, and I'd lost my classification as "human," afterwards. I had woken up, scared, changed, and animalistic, my powers totally out of whack. Luckily, Grandpa had found me, taken me back and kept me under control using a few charms. It seemed to work well enough. Though, he had admitted, he could only do it for so long until I found my own control. I had to fight her, my wolf, with everything I had. Then the wolf and I came to an agreement. We would fly solo, no packs, no family except for little Caleb and Grandfather. And above all, Caleb stayed safe, at all costs.

When my parents had found out that I'd been changed, they had banished me from their sight and sent out a hit team to try and take me out. Sadly, they hadn't realized that in training me to one day be the Ravenwood Matriarch, they had ruined any sort of chance at destroying me; I was too powerful for the family spell casters. Without my help, they were tactless ruffians: no direction, no real focus just a lot of shooting. That, and the wolf magic helped me, too.

By the time I turned twenty, I was travelling around, nothing but a secure bank account, a car, a trunk full of clothes and a baby to my name. I couldn't put down roots in case either my family finally managed to track me down, a 'were caught wind of me, or someone from an enemy clan tried something. It was a hazardous life, to be sure. But I was content in most ways.

Like right now, for instance. I was cuddled up with my handsome little boy, and I hadn't even scented a Were or someone out for my life, or Caleb's in six months. It didn't get much better.

"Mama?" I glanced down at Caleb. He asked, "Mama, when you gonna be a wolf again? You're real soft then." He yawned, his mouth opening so wide I'm surprised his jaw didn't crack.

I chuckled softly. "Soon, sweetie, very soon." I kissed his head as he fell asleep. I couldn't find sleep as he had, though. I never could after I mentally relive the chain of events from the couple of days after my seventeenth birthday to now. Instead I stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, I'd be interviewing for a few jobs that I could work either at home or on the run. It was vital that I work that way. I wouldn't risk sending Caleb off to school, so I homeschooled him. Because I homeschooled him, I couldn't work away from home. Luckily, he was already on high level third grade material, so I didn't think he was lacking. That, and he also got his magical education from me. I was exceedingly proud of my son. His social skills would leave somehting to be desired one day, but at least he had a future to speak of because of my choices.

We were just getting adjusted to our new apartment. I had scoped out this place and thought it was perfect. I love the northwest, but there was a feeling that maybe, just maybe, I was a little cocky being this close to the Tri-Cities . . . The last thing I really needed was Hauptman breathing down my neck.

And considering this was really his terf that was without a doubt, invariable.

I just decided that I'd be extra careful and keep Caleb close to me. He knew not to annoy his dear mommy since having the wolf didn't make me an exactly lenient mother. I ruled with an iron fist; if I said to be quiet and stay put, he did so.

From the few encounters I'd had with wolves though, I was exceptionally dominant and not just by female standards. I'd been told by my grandfather that after I had settled into myself, I exuded a powerful aura that, if he hadn't already known me, would have scared him a bit. It was tough being so primitively dominant. When people met my eyes, being human and ignorant, it awakened the Wolf. She didn't care in the least for such actions, and it took every last ounce of my control not to just growl and start beating them over the head with the nearest blunt object.

I glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. Time to get up and prep myself. I also had to get Caleb breakfast, and get him dressed up nicely so he could come in with me. That had always worked well with employers; they could appreciate a young, single mother with such a well mannered, clean child. That and it usually brought up a few pity points, which, hey! If it works, it works.

I rolled out of bed, tucking the covers around Caleb while he snuggled farther in. I showered and popped back out into my bedroom wearing cotton shorts and a white tank top. I never dressed until _after_ I had breakfast on the table. It cut down on a lot of last second stain removals and dry cleaning fees.

I picked up Caleb who never started to wake up until I physically carried him to our little kitchenette and plopped him in a chair. He blinked sleepily, yawning. His wide emerald eyes looked at me. I bent toward the counter and rested my chin on my propped up hands.

"Momma why you always do that?" Caleb rubbed at his eyes. "I needs my beauty rest, you know," he mumbled indignantly.

I chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Get used to it, squirt. We are going to have do this on a regular basis." I fed him, got him dressed, got myself ready, and stuck his DS and games and a book for him in my hand bag so he could occupy himself.

When I parked in front of the large law firm, I felt a foreboding sense run through my bones through to my very core. The wolf in me was mysteriously excited, yet anxious and jumpy. With Caleb with me, he was in the safest place on earth, but if I was attacked, that also meant that he might get into the line of fire. I used a simple muttered charm to check the area, and didn't sense anything amiss, so I shook it off, and pulled my son out of the car. He walked along happily with me, laughing at the funny clacking sound my heels made as they struck the tile. This law firm was looking for someone who could basically play errand girl, so I figured that'd be perfect. I could keep Caleb and teach him while I ran around while on duty.

Today I was wearing my high waisted navy tailored suit. I wasn't a small woman by any means, so my grandfather had made sure that I had some nice work clothes. My crisp white dress shirt was opened showing a modest amount of flesh. My purse was the one I usually used: a blue leather bag large enough to hold anything from toys to heavy file folders and withstand the abuse of it all. One of Grandpa's Christmas gifts from a couple years ago, probably the best gift I had ever gotten. I walked by a tall man with ashy-brown hair with pale blue eyes, somewhat like mine, but with less green. I caught the scent from the air as it blew into my face when I passed and stiffened, grinding to a halt.

He was a 'were. And he was as dominant as I was which meant I couldn't bully him into keeping his mouth shut and ignoring me. This was bad, this was very, very bad. I forced myself to keep walking, pulling Caleb along with me quicker. My job interview forgotten, I ignored the deep voice that called out to me from behind. Normally, you don't run from a werewolf; it called to the predator and then they want to give chase, but I couldn't risk being caught as a female with no pack. I had heard what happens to some females. They get passed around the pack like some kind of sex doll. I couldn't let that happen, especially not with Caleb with me.

The good looking 'were I had passed started to walk after me. I picked up Caleb and started walking a bit faster, taking corners to find an exit of some sort. This was a large office building; there had to be more than one exit. Caleb asked me what was happening, why my eyes were turning the same shade of brilliant sapphire that my wolf had. I shushed him telling him he needed to stay quiet. I turned another left and came face to face with the exit doors. I breathed a sigh of relief. Until I realized that the man was still following me, and he was coming up fast. I started to jog toward where my car was parked on the opposite side of the large parking lot. Sadly, that wasn't really all that easy in heels.

"Miss! I just want a word . . . Goodness, woman! Would you stop?" I heard footsteps start to catch up with me before a large, warm hand wrapped around my upper left arm. Caleb looked at me fearfully before hiding his head against my neck and shoulder, shaking. He knew what kind of auras different types of people gave off, and he knew that werewolves and mommy were not a good mix.

I shook my arm out of his grip as I turned to look up at the were who had chased me. I glared daggers up at the tall man. "What do you want," I asked unceremoniously.

The man looked a little shocked by my brusque manner but shrugged it off. "Are you one of Adam's wolves? I don't think I've seen you around the Tri-cities before." He also seemed off-put by my unwavering gaze. I probably shouldn't have found as much joy as I did in the fact that he seemed to be getting pissed off.

"That's because I'm new to the Tri-cities . . . I mean, I was off to a job interview, but I won't make that now, since I just realized I have a more pressing matters that need to be taken care of." Yeah, like packing up all of mine and Caleb's things, throwing them in our SUV and getting out of dodge, pronto.

The man frowned at Caleb. "How is it you have a child?" He sniffed the air. "You're obviously a werewolf, and you aren't mated . . . Did you adopt?" I stiffened at his inquiry. Instead of answering, I turned and walked, saucily back to my car. Fighting the urge to growl and snarl at the mention of my son, I focused on the staccato beat of my heels hitting the pavement. He ran ahead of me and jumped in my way, forcing me to halt. He eyes were narrowed.

"Who are you," he demanded to know. I growled and angled Caleb away from him. He insisted, "Who are you? You can't possibly be in Adam's pack after that . . . Who's pack are you in?" I tried to go around him but he grabbed the arm that was mostly supporting Caleb.

"Touch me again, and you're losing that hand," I informed the man. Suddenly, realization hit him. His gaze narrowed suspiciously.

"You do not have a pack." His hand tightened on my arm. He was trying to force his dominance on me, but I matched him, and we were stuck at a stalemate.

Dreading what I was just about to do, I snapped, "If I answer you, will you let me go and not breathe a word of me to anyone?" He thought it over before nodding.

"I don't have a pack. My son wasn't adopted, I have no mate, and if you say anything to Hauptman, I will personally hunt you down and kill you. I can't let anyone know about me or my pack-less state. Especially not an Alpha. So if you'd be so kind?" I looked pointed at his grip on my arm, as Caleb whimpered.

The 'were's face softened at the sound. There was a deep sadness and longing in those eyes. He glanced up at me and all of a sudden the wolf roared to the forefront as the man in front of me met my gaze. She, my wolf, I mean, could only convey to me one thing: _mine_. I gasped as I felt her settle down a bit while I watched the eyes of the man in front of me flash white then back to that same pale blue. All of a sudden a connection or bond of some sort opened up and I realized what had just happened.

My wolf had just claimed the man in front of me as our own, and his must have agreed, because he seemed as shocked as I was. Worse yet, I suddenly knew one thing that was very, very bad: my "mate" was the son of the Marrok. Horror washed over me with this newfound information. He was a doctor, Dr. Samuel Cornick. He was the Welsh son of Bran, the Marrok, who lived in Montana. If there was one thing I could safely say about my life at that moment it was that I was totally screwed, and life sucked.

This Samuel was the son of the Marrok, my mate, and the bane of my existence, hence forth.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 –

I stood dumbfounded, staring at Samuel as he stared back at me. One thing stuck out in my mind, though: Sam wanted kids in the worst way. And I had a seven year old son. I also happened to be his "mate" thanks to my wolf . . . She couldn't make things easy for me, could she?

I clamped down on the mate bond and quickly walked around Samuel. It was hard, but I quelled the urge to run back to him and ravish that wonderful mouth of his . . . No! Bad Siobhan! I shook my head violently. I had to fight my wolf every step of the way as she growled and fought trying to get back to Samuel. If I gave even an inch, the loneliness and longing that haunted his eyes would get to me and my resolve to try and run while I still could, would shatter.

I'd almost succeeded in getting back into my car when the unique smell I now associated with Samuel from the few minutes I'd been around him, filled my head. He slammed the car door shut and spun me, pinning me against the car. I met his now white gaze unwaveringly. His eyes scrutinized my face.

"You know what this means, yes?" I nodded in answer. He went on, "You have no idea how lo—"

"Centuries. I know. You were the Marrok's first son. I know all about you. I had just never even wanted to meet, you. If I got that kind of glimpse in on you and your past, Samuel, then . . ."

"Yes, Siobhan, I know about all of it," Samuel replied with a quick glance at Caleb who sat doe-eyed in the car. I glanced away, the kindness, the understanding and mutual loneliness in his eyes starting to break down my defenses and resolve to leave and never look back. Oh god, no, Siobhan, look away, I internally yelled at myself.

I honestly tried to do so, too. Especially when he murmured, "He is a beautiful boy . . . You're very lucky to have him." My eyes flew up from his shoes to his pale eyes. My wolf, who had obviously been secretly lonely, added to the sudden need to not be alone. Tears filled my eyes and spilled out onto my cheeks as I threw my arms around his middle and sobbed into his chest.

Instead of pushing me away with a sneer, which is what I had been secretly expecting me, he held me closer. I idly wondered if I was becoming bipolar, considering the fact that I had just been threatening this man five minutes ago, and now I was hugging him and sobbing like a little girl. I jerked at the sound of Caleb's scared cry of "Mommy?"

Quickly wiping my tears away, I jerked the car door open and unbuckled him from his car seat. I pulled him into my lap cooing sweet things to my little boy. Samuel's face softened as he watched me hold my son. With my focus only on making sure that Caleb was okay and comfortable, I unknowingly let up on the mate bond. Samuel's longing for what I had with my Caleb hit me full force. Just as I was about to clamp down on my end again, I thought better of it.

Samuel was hurting. Very badly, I might add. The last thing he needed was to see his last, small, chance at happiness shun him. Even though I didn't have memories and experiences with him of my own, I knew enough from the thoughts and memories that had drifted over the bond to gather that he was a good caring man. Hell, he was a doctor! He cared and worked for every patient that needed his care, and felt the loss of a person even if he didn't know them. That was good enough for me.

I scooted over in the car and looked up at him with a tentative smile, glancing down at the open space in invitation. Caleb let out a scared sound. I shushed him saying, "It's okay, Caleb. This is Dr. Cornick. He's not going to hurt you." The only thing that kept me from going ballistic was the fact that my wolf internally growled at me every time I even thought about keeping Caleb to myself. Maybe she wanted us to share the responsibility of raising him with someone?

"Caleb, huh," Samuel asked wryly. "That is a good name for a big strong boy like you, don't you think?"

Caleb looked at him, his eyes widening, after a moment. He hid his face in my hair and whispered, "Mama, he's like you! I'm scared."

I sighed and patted his back. I'd ingrained that fear deep into my little boy's mind. He must have looked at Sam's aura. I looked apologetically at the dark-haired man next to me. "I'm sorry. I . . . We've been running awhile. I taught him a long time ago that witches and werewolves were not to be trusted. Samuel, I apologize. I am pretty sure—" I hesitated. My thoughts turned suspicious and slightly horrified. Just because our wolves had chosen us to be mated did not mean that he wouldn't turn on me and tell his father that there was an exceptionally dominant renegade female running around with a witch child.

"I wouldn't do that to you." My gaze snapped up to Samuel's face. "And call me Sam." He seemed to internally debate something before continuing, "And I know a place you can stay away from crowds and Adam's wolves. You're more dominant than they are but . . . You never know."

I was already shaking my head no. "I can't. I have to work. I only have so much money in my bank account that I need to save for when I can't work and have to keep running. You have no idea how many cars I've gone through. If I don't work, we don't really eat much for the month."

Sam frowned at me. His eyes skidded down from my head to my toes. "By 'we' you mean, 'you,' don't you, Siobhan?" I averted my eyes, shamefaced. That had to be answer enough. "Give me your keys," he commanded, palm open.

I hesitated. Did I really want to give him my car keys? I pondered it, and then figured I was already going to hell, so who cared if I gave Sam my car keys. It was probably food related, anyway. I mean, it was not something too out of the ordinary. Take bleeding heart doctor, add new spontaneous mate that starves herself for her witch-child, and voila! A trip to some good eatery for food and lots of it. I handed him my keys and grabbed his wrist before he could get out. "Remember, you crash my car or do anything reckless with my car with myself and Caleb in it, mate bond or not, I'll tear you limb from limb, Sam."

He flashed a stunning, white smile. "Wouldn't dream of it, Bonnie," he retorted. Sam chuckled at my wide eyes. No one had ever used a nickname for me. I mouthed the name to myself, totally stupefied. He hopped out, opened the driver's door and folded himself into my seat. I saw him grimace in the mirror as his knee slammed into the center console on the way in. Sam hastily pulled the seat back to my immense amusement.

A few moments later, Caleb was held safe in my lap, while I was buckled up and Samuel drove out of the parking lot. The silence verged on uncomfortable. I toyed with Caleb's hair, my mouth pulling up at the edges. I kept thinking of how my new nickname sounded on—No! Stop! Just because you're mated does not mean you have to relax or stay together . . . does it? The same things kept running through my mind. The car came to a halt.

Sam opened the door and helped Caleb out while I unbuckled. As soon as I was out of the car, Caleb was behind me, his little arms tight around my stomach. This was going to be challenging. I wasn't sure how long Samuel would be around, but it wouldn't be easy with Caleb afraid and hanging off me. I froze when I caught sight of the building.

The tall ashy-brown haired man looked back at me. "Coming," he asked gently. I shook my head slowly. I couldn't afford this! This was place was so far out of my price range I wouldn't be worthy of waxing the floors . . . it used to be that I would have flounced around like I owned a place like this before my family had disowned me.

"I-I can't. I cannot afford someplace this expensive." I looked desperately at Samuel. "Couldn't you just take us to a diner? I mean, I'm grateful for a trip to a restaurant, but really—" Sam silenced my babbling with a finger to my lips.

"You are not allowed to pay a cent, understand? You won't go hungry; not while I have anything to say about it." His look stopped the protests that had bubbled to the forefront. "I have no need for your money, Siobhan. Let me get you food and a decent, safe place for you and Caleb to stay? You will never have to see me again."

I dipped my head reluctantly. "Only if I either get to pay you back, or you promise not to come calling to collect."

"Of course." He courteously led me to the door while Caleb hid behind me, trying to be invisible. For one of the first times in my life, I had no idea how to put Caleb at ease. Usually, we ran, I intimidated whatever was after us into submission, and I calmed him down in private.

I was so in over my head.

We sat down and I felt, yet again, inadequate. Just knowing that in another world in the past, I had been in restaurants like this on a regular basis; knowing that having come from that, I was now worrying about being able to cover even a meager quarter of the bill shamed me. I felt disgraced that I couldn't give my Caleb a more stable life. Damn fate and all its twists and turns!

I looked over the menu and settled on just having a side salad and a fruit salad. Sadly my stomach gave me away to Samuel just how hungry I was when a waiter walked past with a gorgeous steak. I cursed to myself when my (shudder) mate gave me a stern, concerned look over the top of his menu. He glanced at the passing waiter as I pressed my lips together, tighter and tighter every passing moment. Sam sniffed the air, nodded and set down his menu. I looked at the children's menu and quietly tried to ask Caleb what he wanted in Irish. My parents had taught me, I spoke it with my grandfather, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to make my son speak it, too. He hesitated a few times, but seemed a little more comfortable knowing that we couldn't be understood. He decided on a simple cheeseburger with French fries.

"_Maime_?" My eyes went immediately to Caleb. His eyes still held that stunning fear I had instilled in him. His voice shook as he asked quietly, "_An bhfuil tú scanraithe? B-beidh mé i seilbh do lámh_." In other words, he had asked me if I was scared then told me he'd hold my hand. My little man was, even while scared out of his wits, trying to be brave. I grabbed onto his hand and pouted playfully. Still using Irish, I told him I was terribly scared and might even need a hug. He nodded eagerly and half hopped out of the chair to cling to me tightly.

I glanced up once, quickly and looked around the restaurant to make sure we weren't drawing any attention. My eyes fell on Samuel who was staring at me tenderly. An awkward stiffness claimed my spine. Involuntarily, my wolf started urging me to get Caleb to like Samuel. Now. As if Samuel was supposed to mean something to him . . . Oh . . . Right, mate thing? My wolf must be convinced that I'm going to listen to her! Ha. Yeah right. Uh huh. She would have to be off her rocker to every think that I would stick around Samuel. I mean, I knew absolutely squat about him. Okay, tiny lie, I knew a lot about him, but besides what the mate bond had shoved into my brain, I knew nothing. Who knew if I could trust him? He was the son of the Marrok! One wrong word and my whole world could come crashing down. Wasn't I a lucky ducky?

Our waiter came buy a moment later and asked if we knew what we'd like to order. He first looked to me but Samuel interrupted and said, "Oh, she'll have the filet mignon with the garlic mashed potatoes, greens, and a side salad. I'll have the same. Caleb?" My son looked up, his emerald eyes scared. He swallowed and ordered quietly, squeezing his arms around my torso. The waiter nodded and briskly walked away to put our orders in.

I scooted my chair back and Caleb up and put him in my lap, facing towards Samuel. Thoughts tumbled through my head like a mudslide. How was I going to deal with Caleb or help Samuel if my son, the thing most precious to me, was deathly afraid of my mate?

'_Let me handle this_,' Samuel's voice said in my head. I jumped at the internal sound. His foot tapped my under the table and he smiled kindly at me. '_Relax, Bonnie. Kids love me. Generally, anyway.'_

Not sure how to do the same, I thought, '_Don't scare him. He's terrified, right now, Sam_.' Sam nodded.

"Hey Caleb, did you know I had a son like you, once?" Samuel leaned forward slightly and smiled easily at my son. Caleb swallowed and shook his head. "No? Well, see one of his favorite things to do was play with me when I'm a wolf. Do you ever do that with your mama?"

"Y-yeah," my boy stuttered. He seemed to relax a degree.

"Really? What color is she? What do you normally do?" Samuel looked at Caleb, fascinated.

Swallowing, Caleb said, "She's a-all b-black. And s-she has really p-pretty blue eyes . . . U-usually we p-play catch, or s-she l-lets me ride on her b-back. She ch-chases me s-sometimes, t-too."

Samuel's grin widened and he asked, "Do you like playing with your mama like that?" Caleb nodded timidly. "Hmm. If you ever get tired of playing with your mama, or she needs a break, I'll play with you. How's that sound, Caleb?"

When Caleb didn't respond I nudged him and he looked down at him. I brushed his hair out of his eyes. "It's okay, sweets. Dr. Cornick is nice. He won't hurt you. He used to be a daddy. If you don't play with him, I will, Caleb." I turned my head primly, glad that Caleb was too young to understand the innuendo. Samuel covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing, though his eyes lightened a few shades and got a little lusty when I met his eyes. Caleb frowned, totally confused.

"Mama? You're gonna play with the we—" before he finished the sentence I interrupted him.

"With Dr. Cornick? Yes. I am. And we'll have so much fun, just the two of us. We'll leave you at home, but maybe we'll go out for a while to play in the park. What do you think, Sam?"

I could smell Sam's arousal at the prospect of our "playing." He replied in a considering tone, "I think that sounds like a great idea, if Caleb doesn't want to." He continued, (though his heated eyes, as they stared at me, belied his true intentions) "I really wanted to play with Caleb, because he's so cool, but if he doesn't want to, I guess I will play with you, instead, Bonnie."

I thought about how much of a hardship it would be for poor Sam to get stuck with me instead of Caleb. The waiter came and dropped our food off. We started eating, Caleb relaxed and asked if we could all play together to be, fair. Sam was absolutely ecstatic. That is until the front door opened and he cursed. I gave him a look, but instead of chastising, I asked quietly, "What is it?" Then the scent hit me and I stiffened. Anything smelling that strongly of wolf, and anyone emitting that kind of power was bound to be bad news. Worse yet, I had an idea of who it was already. That kind of near-tangible dominance could belong only to one other wolf in the city: Adam Hauptman.

My day just kept getting better and better.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here is the third chapter! Freshly finished and edited, just for all my readers. I realized that yes, the whole mating thing was a little sketchy, but hopefully this makes it more understandable. More shall be revealed between this chapter and the ones after. Have fun!

Thank you to those who reviewed! I really do appreciate it. Also, don't forget to (you guessed it) Review!

And on with the story!

* * *

Chapter 3-

I tried to throw up a scent masking charm as quickly as possible, though I feared it would be too late. That and the fact that my aura—invisible to wolves—could be felt as distinctly 'were-like weren't going to matter much, charm or not. I kept my head down and grabbed my Caleb's hand as I stood up. I met Samuel's eyes for a quick moment. "_I'm going to try to make it out of here. If I get to the car, want me to wait for you, or just run?_" I grabbed my bag and towed Caleb behind me quickly.

"_Get out of here. Wait at the parking lot of the law firm and wait for me. I'll try and take care of Adam. Mercy may be a totally different issue, though."_

Caleb stayed quiet as I took him towards the bathrooms. My wolf mourned the distance between us and our mate, but at the moment, I persevered and focused on my task. Sadly, I was so focused, I didn't hear the other set of heels behind me, nor smell the motor oil and coyote.

I had two things that I was keeping my mind on: getting out, and the conversation between Samuel and Hauptman.

"Hello Samuel. Where's your friend going?" The alpha's voice was tense and razor edged.

Samuel didn't miss a beat. "Ladies' room," he said smoothly. "Why, Adam? And hello Mercy."

A voice somewhat near me at my back answered, "Hey there, Sam." Her footsteps quickened and I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned, careful to swing Caleb behind me. "Hello, I'm Mercy."

I nodded at her curtly. "Hi. Can I help you?" I asked, carefully avoiding giving over my name. She scrutinized me as I evaluated her in kind. It looked as though she'd come out on a date with Hauptman. She was wearing a nice, black knee-length dress, black pumps, and her dark hair was left down. Though, for all her nice appearance, she had "blue-collar" written all over her. It wasn't a bad thing, but it was something I noticed because of my upbringing. Between the rough calluses on her hands, the motor oil or dirt under her finger nails, to the built up arms, I didn't need her to tell me she worked with her hands. Probably a mechanic, I thought.

She smiled reassuringly and replied, "Adam, the big guy over there next to Samuel, and I wanted to see who it was that finally captivated Sam's attention for more than a medical reason."

Ha. Actually, they had interrupted something that was for a medical reason: my diet—or lack thereof. "Well, maybe in a few moments. I'm really just a worker from the Sidman and Mindell Law Firm. We were just settling some issues my employer brought to my attention."

The woman in front of me, Mercy, exchanged a glance with Adam before she slid her gaze to Caleb, who was quiet and trying to be invisible. She mentioned idly, "I didn't know Sal Mindell let his employees babysit on the job." She met my eyes. I kept my face blank. If I lashed out at her boldness and mention of Caleb, it would be a dead giveaway when my eyes changed color. Somehow, I managed to keep my wolf in check enough to plaster a fake smile on.

"He does when it isn't babysitting. He's my son."

Her eyebrows shot up. A bit of irritation seeped into her eyes. "Well, that's nice of him. It doesn't sound like him, though. Generally, Sal Mindell works at an insurance company. Now, his brother, Tony, he's the lawyer. Damn good one, too." Damn. My eyes looked around wildly for an exit. Slowly, I backed up toward the kitchen. I locked my jaw when I was about ten feet away and grabbed Caleb, bursting through the "IN" door. I heard curses behind me as I ran past waiters and cooks. People tried to stop me; I merely dodged their hands. I was almost out, when I saw that the aisle way I was in was a dead end; the two stainless steel counters on either side of me curved and met between me and the door.

I swore knowing that Hauptman and Mercy were running after me and there was only one semi-easy way to the back door: up.

I launched myself up, and stepped once on the counter before jumping down on the other side. I paused for barely a moment before I got the door open and was out into the street. The air made me feel a deal more comfortable. I didn't waste time running around to the side of the building and ducking beside a car. Caleb swallowed and clung to my neck with all the strength he had. I rubbed his back soothingly. Hauptman slowed as he came to the front. When he started checking behind cars, I slid my shoes off and hurried to my car, heels in hand. I silently sat Caleb inside. Then, I opened my door almost had the ignition started when the local Alpha spied me. He rushed and tore me out of the driver's seat. He aimed a hand at my throat and I caught it and fought back, breaking my masking charms. We struggled, but with my wolf so pissed off, our dominance hit Adam full force. He tried to brush it off and continue fighting me.

He growled as we battled for supremacy, "Who are you?"

"Get off me!" I forced my own will against him. It was pretty even due to his pack advantage.

"Tell me! Who are you, and why are you in my city?"

I broke a hand free and slugged him across the mouth. That seemed to daze him for a few seconds. I tried to use those moments to my advantage and get into my car when I felt Samuel—who wasn't really Samuel so much as his pissed off wolf—dash out of the restaurant. He shoved Adam down away from me with a snarl before he stood in front of me.

Adam rolled up to his feet and growled at Sam. Sam glared back at him and curled a lip up. He kept a hand on my wrist. The two stood for a few seconds until, finally, Adam's eyes dropped. Samuel stood up straighter and pulled me to him. Suddenly—and very belated, I might add—, something occurred to me as Samuel brought his mouth down to mine.

I barely knew this man. Mate or no, regardless of how much I knew about him, I did not _know_ him. Sure as hell felt like I did, but this was so confusing! The guilt of how loose I must look hit me full like a freight train. Shame and anger flooded me and I thrust my wolf back into submission while I smacked Samuel hard enough to startle him and jump in the car. The door was shut and locked just quick enough to keep Sam from opening the door. His face looked bewildered and somewhat devastated. The car was utterly silent, but I still could feel the slam of the door, the loud "thunk" of the locks echoing in my mind. A part of me, probably the part more connected to my wolf,—who was the one that helped me get into this mess in the first place—was breaking at the sight of Samuel being so distraught. The other part of me, the witch that was relieved to have something solid between my son, myself, and the 'weres.

The tears that sprung to my eyes did not over flow. I refused to allow that . . . at least, I did until I heard one, brokenhearted question echo across the newly established mate-bond.

"_Why?_"

I closed my eyes and turned my head, also turning the key in the ignition. I would not—no, could not, allow him to see my tears.

"I am so sorry, Samuel. I can't. I can't," I whispered raggedly. I clamped down on our mate-bond and looked behind me, putting the car in gear. Hauptman was up and coming towards my back hatch. I sniffed and glared with a grim determination. I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal and the tires squealed in reaction. I found a sick sort of pleasure at nearly hitting Adam while he went leaped out of the way.

I could barely see through my tears as I tore out of the parking lot. I didn't understand all this. Why was I so torn up about leaving someone I had just met today? Why was he so devastated? Why did his devastation influence me so much? Was it only my wolf or was I feeling this myself? I could feel the mate bond between us. I couldn't tell his location or his thoughts, but I could feel his emotion still leaking through my defenses. It made me all the more confused, terrified, and upset.

Once the car was parked a few blocks away from our apartment, I turned it off. My head flopped back against the headrest as I struggled not to make any sound while I cried. If I did, Caleb would know and ask me what was wrong. Truth be told, I did not want him to know that I was afraid. That would have been my easy answer for him. However, I wasn't afraid of Hauptman, his mate, or Samuel. I was afraid of myself.

If I could lose control over myself like that, how could I trust myself not to go to Samuel at some point? I put my own son's life in danger because I gave into my hormones and my wolf. One would think that I would have learned by now, not to trust anyone, including myself. Did I learn? No. I obviously just proved that I'm a horrible mother, and all the running, magic and love in the world couldn't change that.

I shook my head and then muttered an incantation to disguise my car, appearance and scent. It was obvious that Samuel would try to track me and that Hauptman would follow close behind. I activated the glamour charm around Caleb's neck, started the car and pulled out slowly. This was tricky business, but I was determined to get my new apartment cleared out. There wasn't much in the small two bedroom space, but that was for this very reason. We ran quickly up through the halls as another piece of potentially handy information came to mind.

Samuel and I had shared a moment today directly after our wolves mated where our entire lives had been presented before one another. It was how I had known about his love of children, occupation, parentage, etc. This also meant he knew everything about me—including the location of my current apartment. I cursed and quickened my pace feeling something relative to a tug on the mate bond, almost like he was trying to force me to open up by having his side open full blast. Well, it wasn't going to work.

Fighting the ache that bubbled up in my chest at leaving the area I had met Samuel, I packed our meager belongings into our bags. It wasn't much, and everything we did have was mostly in suit cases all the time, anyway. The apartment was on the first floor. It didn't have much of a view, but it meant that I had easy in and out access to my car in case of a situation like this. I had learned a couple years ago, when we were in Utah, that places high up and away from the street and my vehicle were not good for trying to escape.

I was almost finished gathering up the last smaller items in our kitchen when the sounds of a group of men reached me. The clerk's conversation about a woman of my description floated to my ears while I continued to pack. Luckily, Caleb was waiting in the car and not with me. With a quick check about me for anything I may have missed, I spotted my cell phone on the counter, grabbed it, and stuffed it in the main pocket of the backpack I had.

I was now only in short cut-off jeans, the undershirt I had had on under my suit, and sneakers. Layers always came in handy when you needed to change as quickly as possible. I left the key on the floor next to the door and stole out of the apartment as quietly as possible. It would have looked like no one had been in that furnished apartment, that it was awaiting a tenant. Well, it would have, if the apartment building attendant had taken more time in talking to the men looking for me.

"Sir don't go into that hallway! It's for tenants only!" The attendant protested at the same time someone came around the corner. I forced myself not to run, to wait and look natural until I heard footsteps. Seeing the staff bathroom, I stepped in casually as the 'were's—and he was a 'were, my nose informed me—footsteps followed my course. I went to the last stall. I listened carefully, waiting. My feet were perched precariously on top of the toilet seat, my hands resting easily on the top edges of the stall.

The quiet "whoosh" of the door being eased open met my sensitive ears. Booted feet continued to pad toward me while stall doors swung open, some squealing. When the boots stopped near my slightly opened door, I switched my weight to my hands and kicked out the door with as much force as I could muster. I heard a grunt and saw an enormous dark-skinned man hit the floor. He seemed to be knocked out; however, I wasn't sticking around to find out. He didn't look like a normal person of African descent. His eyes were too squinty and his hair wasn't frizzy or curled enough. Not letting this stop me from leaving, I leaped over him and had just touched back down on the ground when a strong hand caught my ankle. He yanked and I almost went down. I began to silently throw thank you's left and right at my bitchy parents for training me in so many fighting styles--fighting styles that enforce good stance and balance.

Instead, I let his pull carry me back so I could drop all my weight on him. He hadn't expected that, and felt all of my one-hundred and ninety pounds of pure muscle and bone fall on him. I slammed in elbow back into his already sore face and got blood on my arm. He snaked a hand up, under my arm to the opposite side of my neck and tried to choke me. I slammed my elbow in his face again, grabbed at his hair and smashed his head into the floor. He growled and shoved me off him. I rolled up to my feet and spun to face him. He got up just as I realized that he had thrown me in just the right way to corner me.

The dark-skinned man stood between me and the door. He wiped an arm across his face to get rid of the blood and put up his hands in a fighting guard. We circled one way, and then he'd turn the other way, forcing me to keep my distance and stay away from the door. I cursed inwardly. Suddenly, he rushed me and I moved out of the way, but not quick enough. He caught me about the waist and swung me forcefully into a wall, rattling a mirror from its fixture above the sinks on my left. The mirror shattered on the tiled floor while I struggled to remain on my feet. I threw punches and elbows, some hitting, some not.

My opponent slammed me in the gut, knocking the breath from my lungs. I saw dark spots and had to blink. Shaking my head, I suddenly lost my ability to breathe as two strong hands caught my throat. I raked my eyes up to stare forcefully into the 'were's face. He was dominant but shouldn't stand a chance. Instead, he ignored my gaze and pressed harder. My lungs cried out, yearning for the air I was unable to give them. I forced myself to remain calm and recall my years of training. I snaked my right arm over his left, under his right, locked my fingers together with my other hand and wrenched to my right. I broke his grip and gasped air into my bruised throat.

I simply refused to lose a fight to anyone while I had Caleb to take care of.

And when I took into account my anger and shame at letting myself go anywhere with someone, allowing myself to trust a man, my blood thirst hit a peak. Now I just wanted to kick someone's ass.

I brought up my knee and smashed it as hard as I could into the 'were's groin. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as he grunted and fell to his knees, cupping himself. I shook my head at him.

"Never try to take on a Ravenwood, you stupid son of a bitch. You'll only get your ass handed to you, and lose your ability to breed," I spat at him while I sauntered past and out the door—

—Right into the hands of Adam Hauptman. He grabbed me and pinned my arms to my sides with a grim look on his face. He called over my shoulder while I struggled against his toned arms, "Hey, Darryl, you gonna be okay?" I heard a grunt of something but couldn't pay attention. My focus was directed on one thing: the little boy who was slung over a large man's shoulder. The werewolf with my son on his shoulder looked nice enough, and was wearing a cowboy hat. However, regardless of that, I hated him with a passion for touching my boy.

My eyes opened wide and fearful as a deer's. My son was slumped and not moving. Rage ran through my veins with the pouring adrenaline. I fought even harder against Adam. I rasped out, "Let go of my son! Put him down, or I swear I'll rip all of your hearts out!" Some of the 'were's cowered at my command, shying away from the force or my order, or the volume of my voice, maybe. I didn't care. What I cared about was getting my son far, far away from here. Adam grunted as I cursed them all and pushed and shoved and fought with every ounce of strength I had.

Finally, my wolf, after being silent in mourning for the loss of Samuel, woke up with the sight of our son, limp and unmoving. Once I got a hand free, I cocked it back and slammed it as hard as I could into Adam's face. His head jerked back and hit the door frame behind him. I started to run at the 'were with my son only to be caught my two more wolves, who were snarling in my ears. Apparently, wolves don't take too nicely to their Alpha being punched by a woman. Tears ran down my face. "My son! Give me back my boy, you bastards! What did you do to him? Caleb? Caleb!" I feared the worst for my son, my devastation and rage pouring out in expletives and blows on my captors, but I never got any closer to my boy.

Unexpectedly, I felt something prick me in the arm. Gradually, my vision grew darker, my movements more sluggish. My wolf cried out, fighting against the drug they had administered to me. She tried to take control, to force a Change, but they had given me enough sedative to knock out a horse. I was helpless. I cried and reached out to my son, seeing sympathy on the face of the man who held him. No one reassured me; in fact, most just sneered at me as I finally lost consciousness.

It was official; my worst nightmares were becoming reality.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**__: Okay, so, I'm a horrible writer, I don't update, and you probably all want to shoot me, however, I feel that I must update, so here it is!_

_Also: I've read _Silver Borne_, and realized that this story is most likely impossible. However, for those who haven't read it, yet, I won't ruin it. Though, for those that have and still like my idea, I shall continue, just for you, since I like Bonnie Ravenwood better, but I created her, so I am bias. I hope you enjoy this long awaited chapter! _

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Chapter 4-

I woke up slowly, my head fuzzy. I could not process what had happened. Blinking and surveying my surroundings, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Not realizing what I was doing—or not doing, rather—I obeyed my wolf's plea to pull on the mate bond; Samuel was close. And by close, I don't mean within a half mile radius—he was far within that. I mean, in a half _inch_ radius. I turned to face him and—still not totally understanding where I was, or what had happened to get me here—hid my face in his neck. A sound of contentment escaped me while my wolf and I tried to recall something. Actually, it was mostly me, since my wolf was the one that wanted to get so close to Sam, that there would be no space between us. I ran through what I normally did when I woke up.

Let's see . . . get up, shower, get dressed, drag Caleb out of bed—Caleb! I jerked up right and my wolf did, too. I jumped out of the cot I was on and rushed the door only to find it to be completely solid, and painful. Damn silver. Rage coursed through me, thicker than the blood in my veins. My wolf howled, and quickly I stripped and gave my body over to the Change. Painfully, my body changed, shifting from human to wolf. Cringing, sounds of Samuel waking up and mumbling sleepily drifted to my changing ears. I did not want to talk to Samuel; this is one of many instances where I raise my head and thank God that my magic carried over into my lycanthropy. Quicker than usual, I was in my full pelt and panting on the floor. Not letting that stop me, I lurched to my feet and threw myself at the door. It barely budged so I tried scratching at the wall. Sadly, it was reinforced with silver coated bars. I was trapped and I didn't have my little boy. There was no sign that my Caleb was alive and well or on the brink of death, and I was caged like a rat in a lab. I was mostly powerless. Keyword: "mostly." I still had my magic.

Samuel tried to grab me to calm me down but I snapped at him and shoved my fury at him through the bond. My mate stopped dead in his tracks as all my emotions were transferred from my end to his. Though I couldn't send him thoughts in my wolf form, my feelings were easy enough to interpret. He groaned and sat back on the bed with his head in his hands. My mind raced from spell to spell trying to recall the simple lock manipulation charm. Frustration peaked and I tried the charm, only to hit a major road block: it wasn't just a lock; it was an electrical security system. I couldn't do anything with that unless I hexed the entire system, but without knowing where I was sending the magic, I wouldn't have a focus; no focus means no hex.

Suddenly, a great force slammed into the wall beside me. Startled, I jumped back. Sam looked down at me with pain in his eyes. To my questioning gaze, he replied, "If it hadn't been for me setting off after you, they wouldn't have been able to get to you. When I realized what they were doing, I tried to lead them a different way, to lead them away from you, but by then, Adam had his wolves scouring the city for any sign of you. It's my fault they have Caleb. The least I can do is try to atone for my sins."

With that one, completely honest statement, Samuel gained my respect and a sliver of trust, as well—which, in case I haven't made it obvious, is pretty close to impossible to get from me. Any man, stranger, mate, or otherwise, that would try and help me get my Caleb back was worthy of my respect . . . and perhaps trust, if he succeeded.

Sam continued to slam into the door, trying to break it down. My wolf was torn between her distress for our son, and worry for our mate slamming into the silver coated door. Deciding that howling and scratching at the door wouldn't help us in the least, I shifted back, painfully to my base form. I quickly threw my clothes back on and gathered my wits about me.

"Come on, Siobhan, a heat spell . . . Hex? No, no. Those are better for technology. Curse? No. Spell or incantation, definitely." With a snap I jerked my head up with a determined smile. "Samuel, stop that before you hurt yourself." He turned back toward me with a quizzical expression. He was breathing hard as I pulled him behind me. I centered myself as my parents and grandparents had taught me. Gathering the power around me I focused it on the door and the locking mechanism with the practice of at least fourteen or fifteen years. Expertly, I slowly closed my hands and snapped them closed firing off a simple incantation and slamming my fists into the door above and below the lock. My hands drew back as the latin in the incantation hit a lull in the cadence. With the same practiced talent, my hands snapped open and I shoved my palms to the left and right of the lock on the final, accented word. No sooner had that happened then the lock and the area around that began to melt. Before the charm could wear off, I kicked the door open with my boot. Samuel quickly jumped in front of me and searched the room outside the door. A red haired man was hustling down the stairs to see what all the commotion had been.

"Bloody hell! Shit… Adam isn't going ta like this." He colorfully in a British accent. Quickly, he changed his direction and ran up the stairs. Damn. Now I was going to have to fight a bunch of ass holes. . . Who might just be able to best me. _No! Caleb won't survive with you thinking like that Siobhan! Get your head in the damned game!_

I ran to each of the cells surrounding the one I had just broken out of calling, "Caleb? Caleb! Mommy's here. Caleb!" My desolation spiked when I looked through the barred windows of each to see barren cells with no sign of my little boy. I swallowed against the lump in my throat as Sam put his arms around me.

"We'll find him, Bonnie," he soothed. "We'll find Caleb and then we'll high tail it up into the mountains." My head nodded and I broke away from him to begin running up the stairs with a reckless abandon. I was getting my Caleb back, even if it killed me.

The door at the top of the stairs was closed and locked, but luckily wasn't metal. Seeing my plans for the piece of maple, Samuel increased his speed and bashed himself into the door, breaking it up into so many splinters of wood. I bobbed my head in a respectful acknowledgment, my hand on his elbow to steady him. I took a right and then another not really seeing anything, just scenting the air for my boy. After three rooms, I caught something of him. Following my nose, I came into a room just off from a living room—at the same time that Hauptman and two of his wolves came barging in. I stiffened at the sight of the bastard I downed.

"Where the hell is my son," I demanded, gathering power around me to blast Hauptman's ass from here to kingdom come if he didn't let me get to my son ASAP.

I tensed to leap at the bastard I tried to kill in the women's bathroom in my apartment building. Samuel caught me about the waist before I could actually jump, though. Yelling my rage, I cursed Samuel out in Latin for not letting me floor the big guy, Darryl.

"Samuel, you better keep your bitch in line," Darryl sneered. "Otherwise we may have a problem."

Sam dropped me, growled, and in the span of five seconds had Darryl pinned to the floor with his hands wrapped around his throat. "Don't insult my mate, Darryl. Ever. You aren't worthy to shine her shoes let alone bad mouth her, understand?" Adam and the guy who had been holding my son as I passed out tried to pry my mate off Darryl. The pinned wolf kept his eyes averted as he struggled to breathe. Itching for a fight and an excuse to attack Adam, I pounced from behind to check him into the wall of his sitting room. He grunted and spun to face me. Determination filled his eyes as we circled switching back twice as he changed direction to keep me from getting passed him.

"Easy way or hard way, Hauptman. You tell me where my boy is, I leave, and don't come back. It's not like I did anything while here, anyway. Otherwise, you'll find out just why the Ravenwoods still haven't been able to best me."

The name of my family caught his attention. "Ravenwood? As in the Irish Ravenwood Witch clan from New York?"

I smiled cattily. "So you've heard of the family that disowned me, eh? Funny they don't talk about me much, huh? It's not like I was going to become the family matriarch and head of combat and defense or anything." In contrast to my sarcasm, I gathered power to me that left the room charged.

Adam wasn't a stupid individual, however thick headed he may be; he caught on quick. "You're Siobhan Ravenwood? Everyone thought you were dead. When you disappeared. . . You turned into one of us, didn't you?"

My laugh was bitter and as sarcastic as my retort. "Nope. I turned into a jackalope and kidnapped a child who happened to want to call me 'Mommy.'"

Adam's eyes strayed to Samuel who still had Darryl pinned. The other wolf was just standing in a corner not interfering. "Is she always this caustic, Cornick?"

Sam eyed him smugly. "Only when threatened and pissed." Adam nodded. Tired of the chit chat, I faked to the right and jumped at the Alpha before me. My intent had been to trap him against a wall with a ball of energy in my hand and a hex ready to cow him into giving me my kid. However, the 'were in the corner sprang into action and caught me about the waist, picking me up from the ground. I slammed my head backward to hear and feel it connect with cartilage. Not caring what happened afterward, I threw the power at the vases over Adam's head, picked them up and dropped them, one at a time, in quick succession to break upon his head.

If that was the most exciting thing that happened to me, today, I thought, at least I got to see Hauptman be attacked by his own vases--each one probably cost as much as three months' of my rent. I smirked in satisfaction as the grip on my waist loosened and I launched myself at Adam to start rolling, each one of us battling for supremacy. However, I was quite sure my judo and jujitsu blackbelts gave me the upper hand as I put him in an arm bar. Grunting he tried to move, only to find that the pain intensified as he struggled.

I demanded my son's return and he refused, and with a sudden jerk, he broke my hold and flipped me. I silently cursed, finding him fully mounted, which for anyone ignorant of grappling terms, means that I was seriously screwed.

He grinned slyly down at me, scenting my distress. With a growl, I stuck my right hand up in his face, and with the other, punched him right where it really hurt. As Adam wheezed, I used the opportunity to get up and grab a large shard of glass. I pressed the shard to his throat and everything fell silent. Weres that had been running in from God knows where, stopped dead in their tracks, seeing their Alpha pinned by a woman with a make-shift blade to his throat. Samuel got up.

By this time, I was pissed and frantic. My heart ached for my little boy, as I prayed for him not to be in some social worker's hands, or worse… under a pile of dirt, blue and cold. My breathing ragged, I pressed the shard close to knick Adam's neck as the first tears left my eyes. My boy was all I had! If I lost him… all the money and magic in the world wouldn't keep me from killing myself. Swallowing and speaking low so my voice wouldn't crack, I commanded, "Give me my son back! And if he isn't alive, I will level this place with all of us in it without a second thought."

Hauptman seemed to weigh his words as he tasted the atmosphere. "How do I know he's really your son? Female wolves cannot have children."

Disgusted with him, I exclaimed, "Because I was raped at age seventeen, and by eighteen I had him! I didn't turn into a werewolf until I was nineteen! That was five years ago! Five, hard-freaking years of running, and hiding, and evading assholes like you who want to ruin what little peace I have by tying me down to a pack and letting my family and their half-assed assassins hunt me like a rabbit!"

Tears flowed into silent streams on my cheeks as they all stared at me in something akin to respect. Adrenaline started to fall leaving me depressed, anxious, and wishing I was still just a witch and future Ravenwood Matriarch. My voice a broken whisper, I made one last statement. My heart-wrenching pain echoed in the room. "I just want my Caleb back."

Samuel knelt down beside me and slowly pulled the glass shard from my hand, frowning at the cuts on my palm and fingers from gripping it. He pulled me carefully off the alpha and pulled me to him, tucking my head under his chin. My wolf, who had been growling and keening in my head as I refused to let her take over, found comfort in Samuel's arms. His grip was tight, grounding me when I failed to do so on my own.

My quiet sobs shook my frame, small in comparison to Samuel's bulk. His chest rumbled under my forehead while he growled at Adam. "Damn it, Adam! Don't you remember when Jesse was kidnapped? How sick you were? How can you keep on denying Siobhan her son? What the hell are you waiting for? Someone to step forward and claim Caleb as theirs? Take a look at Siobhan and Caleb together and tell me that you can't see a resemblance." Sam's remark caused unrest amongst the pack. A low rumble picked up as they muttered to each other.

A moment later, Mercy, Adam's mate pushed to the front. Her eyes quickly assessed the situation and her brow creased. I bristled at the pity on her face, my pride taking a hit. Not only was she only a half-breed but she was a coyote. My pure-blooded witch up-bringing and my wolf both made me want to thumb my nose at the woman, but the more human part of my brain revolted. She didn't seem to be a threat—heck, she might even be the deciding factor to my getting Caleb back.

Taking a big breath and going out on a limb, I opened up my side of the mate bond. I was desperate, and I didn't know these people; Samuel did. If anyone could help me at that moment, it was him.

He jerked in surprise when my tentative releasing of our bond abruptly let go to the point that it was open full-bore. Samuel's arms tightened around me as my desperation and desolation smacked into him. I asked him for a read on the atmosphere and he obliged. Mercy was feeling sympathetic and had a gleam in her eye that said she was thinking of how to get Adam back and his wolf to chill. Adam was about ready to lose it, his wolf barely registering what Samuel had said. The other wolves were at a loss between wanting retribution for threatening their Alpha, others were afraid to do much, and an even lesser few were aroused by the she-wolf who, in essence, had bested Adam Hauptman.

Even Samuel hadn't dared to take Adam on directly as I had.

Samuel also wasn't worried about his son… and he lacked the leagues of witch magic I still controlled. And yeah, I was a black witch, so what? I didn't kill anyone. I used my own blood in curses, and if I had to, I warmed blood from butchered meat if I couldn't use my own. Granted, the results were better if the scarlet ingredient came directly from a sacrficed source, but it worked just fine and I didn't have to kill lambs in front of my son. I felt Samuel's eyes on the top of my head as my eyes shifted from Mercy to Adam and back to a few other wolves that seemed the most zealous.

Mercy shifted to stand in front of Adam, calming him and saying things I wasn't listening to. I was watching body language. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, spoke louder than a person's body language. Adam tensed and relaxed in intervals, as Mercy struggled to stay non-threatening and open. I felt my brows knit tighter together and my face becoming more strained as Adam stiffened and Mercy started to back off. It wasn't working. No! Her tactics were not freaking working! In a panic, I took off in a run, bursting through the mass of werewolves, growling when they tried to stop me, adding an extra elbow or knee to emphasize my point.

Sniffing the air for my son, I dashed up the stairs, following his familiar scent. I yelled Caleb's name whilst working to stay out of Adam's reach. He was close on my heels; I was definitely encroaching on his personal territory, and I didn't care. As soon as Caleb was in my arms, I was jumping out a window and making a break for it. I estimated two stories off the ground. Scoffing, I remembered when I'd had to jump from a six story apartment building into the fire escape on the first story. I'd nearly broken both ankles, but a simple charm kept the injuries from being serious.

The scent of my son took me to a closed door. I burst through it, half frantic. My eyes roved the room, ignoring the shriek of the teenage girl on the bed. What I didn't ignore was the exicted and questioning voice that cried out, "Mama? Mama! You're back! Where'd you go?" Crying in relief I ran for him—

--Only to be tackled to the ground. And then I lost control to my wolf, our need to be with our Caleb sky rocketing. Taking a backseat, I watched as my wolf flipped Adam and slugged him. She hated fighting in this form, but she was used to it. She snarled as he kicked us off and stood in front of the girl, who was holding Caleb as if her life depended on it.

"Jesse, get out of here! Take the boy with you," Hauptman roared.

"No!" we cried. Caleb was struggling against the girl, Jesse's, hold. He looked confused and tried to come to me. He called for me, and his protests hit me on a level that had never been touched before.

No one, and I mean, no one, made my baby cry. Adam Hauptman, Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack, was going to pay for every one of my son's tears with another chunk his hide. My wolf and I howled, long, and hauntingly. The sound inhuman, and lupine. Adam came at me and I thrust out with my magic. With a word of Latin, he was shoved against the ceiling and immobile. I'd beat him once I had my boy safe.

I wouldn't hurt the girl. She was merely following orders; Jesse hadn't a clue. I just glared at her. She stiffened and dropped her eyes. I smirked. _Smart girl, she'll live longer than I expect her father to_.

I forced myself to be calm. Quietly, I demanded, "Let Caleb go. Now." Jesse's grip tightened on Caleb. Apparently having had enough, he bit her then ran to me when she hissed and released his arm. His arms went around my neck as tight as he could manage, and he buried his head in my neck. I held him close, cradling my son and rocking him as he wept harder. His plethora of tears fueled my thirst for Adam's blood, but that would have to wait for another time. Right now, I had Caleb to worry about. Jesse stood at the threshold, just inside the door. As the other wolves reached the entry, I shut it with magic, held Caleb tightly, and ran at the large pane-glass window at the other end of the room. As Samuel burst through the door to see me twisting in mid-air with Caleb, I sent him an apologetic thought from our mate bond.

_Bonnie, don't leave me, please! I just found you. Will you--_

_Don't worry_, I told Samuel through our mate bond. _I'll try and talk to you somehow once we're secure and secluded. Thank you, Samuel. Really, I_-- my wolf growled--_I mean, _we_ wouldn't have been able to do this without you. _

As the glass shattered, and I flung myself into the open air, I inhaled the first scents of freedom, fresh air. Caleb clung to me with arms and legs, while I let Adam drop from my levitation spell and gave him a sardonic salute.

One day soon, he would find out how I had lasted so long out running my family and evading the other werewolf packs.

And that was a simple matter: not a soul had ever found me and lived to tell the tale.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N**__: For all of you who hate my characterization of Adam, I apologize. He's territorial; Siobhan stomps on his fragile male pride and endangers Jesse. I didn't like it much, but at the end, Siobhan was over-reacting and frantic for Caleb, and Adam was all whacked. Notice how she jumped to conclusions and ignored their words? She doesn't know Adam. She was all crazy and not thinking clearly. (Neither was he.)  
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_Also! SHE IS NOT ATTACHED TO SAMUEL. Her wolf is attached to Sam, his wolf. Their bond is directly linked to Siobhan and Samuel. Siobhan is confused and doesn't want the bond, or a mate. Samuel is a good guy, and sees her as his last chance at salvation. She knows this which makes it harder for her to be logical and leave him in the dust. Plus her wolf is insistent on being with her mate. The wolves bonded instantly, the humans were just dragged along with them. At the moment she's grateful to him for helping her get Caleb back. Just to clarify. Now… On with the story!_

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Chapter 5-

I set Caleb down gently and then promptly collapsed, praying that my lungs wouldn't just shrivel up and drop into some dark part of my ribcage. I hated long runs on two legs. Human feet were not meant for the woods. I needed my essentials, and I had no idea if they had survived Adam's pack's raid. I tiredly cursed myself.

What the hell had I just done? I was so screwed, it wasn't even funny. Not only had I attacked an Alpha, I had cursed him, broken his daughter's window, and threatened to level his house . . . How the hell had I lost that much control of myself? How the _hell_ had I not realized that Adam thought I was off my rocker and was only doing his duty? _I am so royally screwed_.

"Mama?" I looked at Caleb, fighting to keep my eyes open. "Mama, where'd you go? Why'd we have to leave? Mr. Adam and Jesse were really nice. Jesse said they didn't have to move like we did. She said she didn't think you were my mommy." His lips pouted and he looked on the verge of tears. "You're my real mommy, aren't you?"

My heart broke at the life I sorely wanted to give him and couldn't. I pulled him into a hug. "Of course I am, love," I murmured. "They aren't used to anyone like us, Caleb. They didn't want me to have you, and I was too crazy for them to trust me. The same reason I don't trust them around you is what kept me from you. Was she nice to you? Was Jesse and Mr. Adam nice, my sweet?"

Caleb clung to me and he nodded sullenly. He detailed his stay with Jesse and how she made cookies that morning and let him lick the spoon. As he went on to ask me why we never did that, he unknowingly cut me to the quick. That I couldn't give Caleb the home he deserved killed me inside while I also knew that I was doing the best I could, how I could. It was thoughts like that that made me wonder if it would be better if I just gave into Samuel. For a moment I began to let myself think about what life might be like if I let myself relax around Samuel.

I imagined that life would be pleasant. Granted, our own peace would be hard won, but I would have someone to fall back on; all of the stress and aggravation of my life wouldn't be just my burden to bear. On one hand, Samuel was a kind, sweet, adoring man; he even had a knack with kids. On the other, much more upsetting hand, he came with a great deal of baggage. I mean, the man had attempted suicide, how many times in the past years? And how many wives and children had he lost? I had been in his head; I had seen most of his past except what he had succeeded to bury in his subconscious for further torture. I didn't know the correct answer to either of those questions. And sure, he seemed to have recovered from his last attempt but someone was helping with that . . . my mind was struggling to remember who it was as exhaustion began to try and make its presence apparent.

I dreamed with Caleb cuddled in my arms. My dreams brought me to Samuel. I saw him in front of a secluded cabin surrounded by conifers and a meticulously tended yard. Caleb ran out to greet me and when he hugged me, he stopped short, of running into me. He hugged me gently as my dreaming self realized that I was pregnant and so very tired, but content. One thing I noticed beyond Caleb and the impossibility of me ever being pregnant again (I was a werewolf: miscarriages were all I could ever hope for, if not absolute infertility) was the look in Samuel's eyes. His gaze almost seared me with its warmth and loving sincerity. My lips stretched into a smile that mirrored my mate's. I had no apprehension, no awkward, alien feeling concerning Samuel and our familiarity as I sent Caleb off to play with the dogs and moved toward Samuel. He met me halfway and held me close. He pressed his lips to my forehead and murmured, "This is what life should be, Bonnie. This is what I could make possible. Now wake up, Bonnie. Wake up. Wake up. . ."

"Mommy, wake up!"

I sniffed and blinked blearily at Caleb. "Whaa's wrong?" I slurred. He put a finger to his lips and then pointed towards the sounds of snarling and howling wolves. My maternal instinct kicked into high gear and adrenaline urged my system into stark clarity. And in another moment I was running again. Running for my life, for my son's, and for a dream of peace and fulfillment I knew would never come.

At least, I _was_ running until I suddenly came into an open field and my fatal mistake was noted. I didn't know the area; my adversaries did and had used that knowledge against me. I had been herded straight into the mouth of the local wolf pack.

I blinked furiously, angry that I couldn't see until I realized that my eyes were tear-filled. I cleared my eyes and tried to figure out where to go, who the weakest link in the barrier was. Damn it all! I had to think clearly! But I couldn't think very clearly for very long before my panic set in once more. I didn't want to kill everyone there. Hell, most of them were just pawns that followed their alpha without question. Even if it looked like there was no choice, I did have a choice. I had three prominent options: go down fighting fair, use a curse on Adam that would infect anyone with magical ties to him, or I could give up and let them do what their leader willed. I didn't really see any other options.

Caleb's ribcage rose and fell quickly with his frantic breathing. He clutched at my neck and hid his face. I murmured to him in Gaelic, setting him down and deciding to go for a different option. I quickly stripped down and murmured an incantation I'd created to speed the Change. Within a few minutes the pack was alert and closing in faster than before. There was still a good gap where they wanted me to go, though. Having noticed it while Changing, I looked towards the gap and growled in determination. Caleb grabbed my clothes and climbed onto me, lying on my garments and gripping my neck.

I took off full tilt towards the gap they'd left in their circle. I knew they were still herding me, so I figured I'd give them what they wanted. My wolf tried to take control but I refused her the privilege. I needed to be in control and her only instinct was to sprint away, find Samuel and make sure he was okay. Then her maternal instinct begged that we find a den for Caleb. She huffed indignantly but sat back and waited. She would go for control when my will weakened.

I saw a new SUV and the three higher ups of the Colombia Basin pack. Adam, Darryl and the third in command were there with another female that smelled like Darryl. My quick assessment of them all made me slide to a stop in the center of their circle. They smelled determined but not totally pissed… except for Darryl, and I was beginning to think he was just a generally hateful person.

Caleb tried to get off; I turned an eye to him and huffed. Obediently, he shifted into a safer position on my back. Adam took a step toward us and I bared my teeth, laying my ears back. I was an impressive size for a female; this caused him to think twice. Luckily, he wasn't pissed off—which shocked the hell out of me. He put a hand out in a placating gesture. My lips went down, but my ears stayed flat to my head. I watched Adam closely, careful to keep his minions in sight. One of the codes of martial arts my sensei had always forced into my skull was "The eyes must see all sides." His lesson had yet to do me wrong.

Expecting the worst when Adam spoke, I tensed ready to bolt or fight. Instead of the kidnapping and execution order I expected, he said, "Siobhan Ravenwood . . . You owe me a large window, ceiling repairs, porcelain and china replacements, a door, and several pieces of furniture. As well as a new silver-reinforced door. Come quietly, we need to talk and no one will take Caleb."

Frantic, I backed up a step waiting for a gunshot or an attack from someone in my blind spot. Nothing came. Instead Adam just stood there staring hard at me. Why couldn't I just be left alone? I'd send him money later! Empty my bank account and get more money transferred back to my account by Grandfather. But no; instead, my life and Caleb's by extension were in near-constant jeopardy.

Caleb pulled gently on one of my ears and asked me to let him down. Slowly, with a cantankerous glare at Adam in the relative silence—the wind was blowing adding a grassy hiss to the deafening quiet of the pack surrounding me—and lowered myself so Caleb could reach the ground easier. I focused my attention on him for a moment, sniffing him and then licking his cheek to satisfy my wolf. Seeing that he was perfectly fine, we directed our focus onto the Alpha facing us. Caleb set my clothes down in front of me and I Changed, using up the rest of the incantation and shrugging my clothes on. My wolf wanted to bolt, find Samuel and run far, far into the mountains with Caleb and our mate. Either that or rip out Hauptman's throat for taking our baby from us.

I grimaced at the rough-feeling cloth on my new, raw skin. I asked nonchalantly, "What's the catch Hauptman? I just attacked you, broke half your house and I nearly killed your Beta. What gives with the good cop routine?"

"Let's just say I lost my head. And I have a business proposition for you." My hands, in the process tying my sneakers, stilled. My wolf eyes found his gaze. My wolf growled at the unknown message in the first half of his answer. I got the feeling that the Alpha's control was somewhat lacking, but my wolf was just truculent and irritable, as was usual for her.

My wolf and I stood and picked up our son. I pulled Caleb's head to our shoulder and stroked his hair. He asked me where we were going, but I shushed him and murmured a simple weapon-detection spell. I nodded at Hauptman and walked toward him. When only about ten feet separated us, I paused. Adam raised an eyebrow at me and I pursed my lips. "Hauptman, be frank with me. Why the sudden change of heart? You chased us from the time you walked into that restaurant. This turn does not make any sort of sense."

"Honestly, Siobhan? Then, it was my turf, you did not belong there, and you ran. That was instinct. Later I thought you were dangerous. As you so bluntly mentioned, you nearly killed my second while continuing to run away from me. Besides, a rogue female? You're quite the rare breed. The fact that you're so dominant is another rarity. Add that to Caleb holding little resemblance to you at first glance, it'd be understandable to think you kidnapped him, wouldn't you say?"

His view of things gave me pause. It was perfectly logical for him to act as he did. Plus, as I'd seen, he was a father. He didn't just worry about his pack; he worried more about his human daughter in a world full of the Big Bad Wolf's offspring. But my wolf's and my attacking him warranted immediate execution once approved by the Marrok . . . Unless he really had a use for us. I put Caleb down—grudgingly—and held his hand, nodding my chin past Adam.

"I don't go anywhere until I hear this business proposition of yours."

Adam inclined his head. "On one condition," he cautioned. When my eyebrow raised and my wolf fought her way to the forefront, he continued, "No magic and no combat." When I acquiesced, he gestured with a hand, for me to precede him. I informed him, smirking, that anyone worthy of my fighting skills is never allowed at my back; so we walked even with each other, away from his pack. My anxiety dropped and my wolf calmed slightly.

The sun was just rising and the beauty was nothing in comparison to the sunrises we had back in New York. I shook my head. There are three things you can't get on the west coast when you're from the east: good, traditional pizza; quality bagels; and a breathtaking sunrise. As I muttered that last bit in Gaelic, Adam shot me a glance. He seemed on edge so I laughed and stared straight forward so as not to send his he-man (and he-wolf) instincts into overdrive.

"Relax, Alpha Dog. It's Gaelic, not Latin. You're safe. I don't break my word. Unless it's with a landlord on short notice. Then I really don't give a shit." Adam looked askance at me and I met his gaze squarely. Caleb's small hand tightened on mine. "So what kind of business are we talking about?"

Answering my question with a query of his own, Hauptman asked, "Did you and Samuel actually mate?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'mating' are you referring do, Alpha Dog?" His eyes tightened slightly at my casual needling. Looking a tad embarrassed and nearly offended, he indicated the mating having to do with the bond, not the one in the bedroom. I chuckled and told him (vaguely) of my first encounter with Samuel in the parking lot.

A moment passed and I battled with my wolf in the tense silence. She wanted to incapacitate Adam and then bolt with Caleb. After finding someplace safe, she also wanted to open the floodgates of our mate bond to Samuel so he could find us. But if I could get a peaceful alternative, I may not mind getting my car and belongings back from wherever they are.

Adam, I noticed seemed to be weighing his options. Being a woman of little patience, I was about ready to beat him over the head to get him to continue whatever thought was going through his thick head. Instead, I picked Caleb up and looked him over, brushing his hair out of his face. He had a few scratches from my running with him and probably from the window glass, too. His face was splotched with bits of dirt and dead leaves. I licked my thumb to clean his cheeks; his face scrunched up and he protested. My little trooper was bushed, though. From his drooping eyes to his mumbled protests and lethargic movements, I could tell he hadn't slept much without me around.

"Had I given you more of a chance, I would have seen the resemblance, Siobhan." My eyes strayed from my son's face for a moment. Adam continued after I made an interested sound. "He has your hair, cheekbones, the shape of the eyes and the spirit, most definitely. That and I cannot see how any kidnapped child could be so comfortable and trusting with their kidnapper."

"Yeah, well, it's not my fault that he looks like his father to the public eye. It hurts to look at him sometimes, but then I remember how pawn-like the life of someone from a witch clan is. Caleb's father probably didn't even have a choice in the matter. I know what that sort of life is like. I was raised on magic and blood to be the matriarch of our clan. I was molded into the best since my five-times-great-grandmother back in our family's Golden Age in Ireland. Now they chase after me to try and silence me from betraying any of our family secrets to Caleb."

"So stop running. Become pack." Blown away by this offer, I squinted at him like he was crazy. Hauptman stopped my argument with a raised hand. "You don't know the meaning of pack. It isn't just a male-domineering societal structure. It's a solid unit. It's the closest thing to family any of us have beyond what blood relatives may still be alive and speaking to us. Life is too lonely and depressing to go through it on our own; pack is what holds us in place. If you do not believe me, ask Samuel."

As much as my wolf rebelled against the constraints of this, it made sense to me; however, I couldn't see how it would work all that well taking orders from Adam. One of the larger aspects was that he was a man and I had been hardwired to rule a matriarchy from birth. The other huge issue was that I was more dominant and since Samuel, my mate—by bond only, God curse it all—was a lone wolf, that would probably leave me at the bottom of the food chain, since making _him_ pack would be suicidal for Adam.

_Why would he want me as pack, anyway?_ I wondered. I would only cause problems because of the belligerents that disowned me. I asked him as much: "Why would you want me is part of your pack? I've got to be more trouble than I'm worth. Ad—Mr. Hauptman, I'd much rather just send you a check for the damage done to your home, send your daughter something for scaring her, and disappear. I am very good at it."

His mouth quirked. The Alpha was a businessman: he knew all the signs of someone tempted by an offer. "It would be cheaper to have a witch in my pack clean up after our messes than to keep paying for the local Russian. Besides, you have skill that probably matches hers in quality."

With a quick shake of my head, I denied his assumption: "Though I was instructed in what all magic users must know to be considered competent, I was taught mostly combat, infiltration and defense magic, Hauptman. I'm not a clean-up specialist."

"Then you can learn," the Alpha countered. "And those are also very nice skills to have." He had me backed into a corner and he knew it. He hadn't given me any other option. So were I to decline the offer, he was probably going to have me executed for my crimes. If I accepted, I would have to swallow my pride and listen, for once, to a man that wasn't my father or grandfather.

It also meant that I would have to stay near Samuel. That was the exact opposite of what I wanted. My wolf wasn't influencing me anymore like she had been in Adam's home and at the restaurant. I didn't really know Samuel. Granted, I knew his history like no one else did, but that did not equate to really knowing him. I did not know his mannerisms; his loves and hates; thoughts on Bach versus Beethoven; or whether he preferred Italian over Chinese. It was strange how our mate bond had worked, but it was as if it had only given us telepathy and a biographical summary of one another. Anything major, the two of us knew, but as I had learned when Caleb was still very young, it was the little things that mattered. The little things like being able to play with Caleb on a quiet summer afternoon or make my son laugh was what made our life bearable. I couldn't stand having to be so close to someone that I was so utterly compelled to be with when that person was a complete stranger. Trustworthy and kind, Samuel was; but he was still an enigma to me.

I looked down at my son. He was my world, and if I died, he would be left alone. I couldn't let that happen. So, with no other options, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for my next, damning words. "What do I have to do?"


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N**: Review, my dears! I have some more time to devote to writing for my fanfiction, as well as the ideas to do so. Enjoy!_

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Chapter 6 –

We rode back to Adam's home in his SUV. I forced myself to remain calm and not let my wolf go primeval on them all. I figured if I was damning myself to a male-led hierarchy and a miserable existence for my son, I might as well get used to it. There was always the issue with Samuel being around and technically my mate, so I had no idea how this was going to work out. . . I also held no real desire with dealing with Samuel. Now that I was completely separated from my wolf, and I had my boy back, I was horrified by my behavior. That coupled with the sick feeling I got when I thought about him (note that this was a good sick, which made it even more appalling) made me want to deal with the Samuel-mate-pack situation as much as I want to cut off my own hand or speak amiably with my mother.

When we arrived at the house, I had Darryl and the third of the pack on either side of me. I carried Caleb on my hip while he slept, petting his head, nestled in the crook between my neck and shoulder. Like the vigilant (and exceptionally paranoid) mother that I was, I noticed that the third of the Colombia Basin pack kept periodically throwing Caleb worried glances. A smile tugged at the edges of my lips as I recalled his face when he'd had Caleb unconscious over his shoulder. I snagged a glimpse of the third and asked in a low tone, "Ever had kids?"

He looked up, startled. "I, uh, no, ma'am. I haven't, but I do a good bit of guarding Adam's girl."

I made a sound of appreciation. "Ah, gotcha. Children are a blessing and a curse. They are your one reason for living when the chips are down and your ultimate vulnerability. You can't pull stupid stunts in the face of danger when you're the only one they've got. . . You have no idea how much of my arsenal is limited because of that simple fact." I watched his nod of understanding in my peripheral vision. Recalling Caleb's good condition when I first found him, I idly wondered if this wolf had been responsible for that. I asked him as much.

Darryl growled at me. Rolling my eyes, I told him to save his temper for someone who couldn't hand his ass to him. The third looked at me with something akin to respect in his eyes. "Well, ma'am, I did what I could to see that the little guy was safe." We reached the door and he opened it for me, allowing me to walk through with Caleb. Grudgingly, I felt that I owed him for not mistreating Caleb when he could have easily been careless with my boy.

I looked at the pack's third and thanked him earnestly, "Thank you. Really. His safety and happiness are the only things I care about. The second isn't always coupled with the former, but if he can breathe to whine about how much we move, then he can live to appreciate it later. . . What is your name? I prefer know to whom I am indebted." A half smile pulled up the corner of my mouth.

"Warren, Miss Ravenwood." He tipped his hat like I'd seen cowboys do in old movies my grandfather used to guilt trip me into watching with him.

"Just call me Siobhan." Noticing his red nose I hissed and grimaced. I hastily added, "Is your nose still hurting? I remember breaking it before. I can make up a poultice or potion for the pain, if you need it."

Warren laughed good-naturedly and denied my offer. "No thank you, Siobhan. It was a good shot you gave me, but I'm just fine," he twanged in answer. His eyes left his face and strayed over my shoulder as I felt two hands turn me. A second later I had my face pressed up against a large expanse of chest that reeked of Samuel. It was a very pleasant scent, but not precisely one that I was willing to indulge myself with.

My—highly unwanted—mate held me and my wolf made an eager sound of contentment. Her alacrity at accepting this (and shoving it in my face) disturbed me, frustrated me to an extreme I had never fathomed her being able to push me to.

God, how I hated my wolf sometimes. . . Okay, it was most of the time, so sue me!

I sighed, "You can let go now, Samuel. I'm in one piece, and there is business to take care of, my pride to bid adieu, and my freedom to watch fly out the window. Now, if you'll excuse me?" My fake grin lit up my face was I was given some personal space. It was awkward to be near crushed by the embrace of a hulking behemoth who somehow didn't manage to do the same to the sleeping boy in your arms.

Samuel pulled back and frowned, an expression that engulfed his entire face. "What do you mean?"

"So Adam didn't tell you his stipulations for letting me live outside the hour?" I looked at him innocently. When I received a negative motion I smiled.

After careful consideration, I decided to wait for Samuel to see what would happen, as it happened, so he couldn't stop me with some obscure rule made by the Marrok. It might, I thought, put a wall of pack between Samuel and me. Plus, if Adam hadn't been feeding me bullshit about what pack was, or could be, this could be a good deal in keeping my biological family at bay, bloody bastards that they all were. I hedged, "Well, you'll find out soon enough, anyway." Focusing a sunny grin on Warren, I said, "Lead the way, good sir." And he did.

Adam soon found us in his dining room. Mercy, Adam's mate, was standing next to the large Welsh man I was mated to. She was talking quietly to him. Samuel did not look happy. He looked anxious and because of that, I was just as jittery to get this over with. Once this pack business was finished, I could get my car back, find a new apartment, and hopefully postpone Samuel confronting me. About fifty or so people surrounded us, mostly men, with some women scattered within the crowd. I kept Caleb close to me, cradled in my lap as I surveyed the crowded room of 'weres. The room was comfortably lavish in its trimmings that were obviously expensive yet subtle in its show of wealth. The curtains were of the highest quality as were the paintings, furnishings of fine woods, and linens.

I met Adam's gaze steadily, making him uncomfortable. Among the cacophony, I let him know my last concern. "Are you sure about your decision?"

"Are you sure about yours?" the older man countered.

I raised an eyebrow. "Touché. Let's get this over with, shall we? I have a new apartment to find. Far, far from where my current one is."

The crowd around us seemed to know that we'd come to a mutual conclusion. I shivered at the charged atmosphere of the room. None of them had been expecting this. They'd all thought that this would be an execution. Instead I was becoming one of them… Well, one of them minus Samuel. And he wasn't savvy to what was going on just yet, which was a considerable miracle.

Adam's aura took on a multi-colored aspect as he pulled on his pack bonds for the magic held there for his taking. He cut a chunk of flesh from his forearm and presented it towards my lips. Having set Caleb down, I was free to take it and swallow with a grimace. Adam intoned as I felt a hint of surprised rage seep through my restraint on my bond with Samuel, "From this day forward, mine to me and mine. Pack."

Not even realizing what or why I was saying it, I heard the word, "Yours to you, and mine to me." Confused, I realized that the proper response had been scorched into my subconscious with many of Samuel's other memories. Adam smiled triumphantly and was extending his hand when an enraged roar ripped through the room from a familiar source.

"_No!_" My head jerked up as I felt both the pack bond sear me and the knowledge of what Samuel was about to do fill my mind. Without even thinking, I shoved Adam out of the line of fire as Sam leaped toward him, landing on me in his stead. To get him to calm down, I avoided eye contact with Sam and bared my throat. He gripped my wrists and stared down at me, breathing hard. The already super-charged atmosphere had been intensified tenfold by the outburst.

I heard a whimper of fear as Caleb woke up to see Samuel pinning me on the floor. Sam looked at Caleb and his eyes narrowed. "Mama!" he cried. I shushed him and told him to stay quiet in Gaelic.

"Sam," I whispered, trying to get his attention back on me instead of my son. "Sam, I know I should have told you what was going on, but please, calm down. It was my only option." His crystalline eyes, as his gaze strayed back to my face, told me that the wolf was ascendant. Which was just fan-freakin'-tastic, seeing as I sucked trying to calm anyone but my son . . . Including myself. Deciding that perhaps my wolf might do better I allowed her to take the lead seeing as how the mate thing was her fault to begin with.

I watched from a quiet part of my mind as she moved to the forefront and spoke, her voice holding more of a brogue than mine. "Do not fret. The witch did what she thought right for our boy, _a ghrá mo chroí. _We shall attend your grievances at a later time. . . One with less bystanders, yes?" She turned our head until our throat was completely bared to Sam. I rebelled at having to be so submissive, but he was an extremely dominant wolf. If my wolf and I didn't submit, he'd go crazy from the testosterone and dominance level. Hopefully her Gaelic endearment worked, as well.

Samuel shook with the restraint he was enforcing on himself. My wolf's words and her soft, affectionate looks appeared to have the desired effects on Samuel and his wolf. Adam moved to try remove Sam from his position, but my wolf motioned for him to stay. We needed to take care of this on our own, and we wouldn't let Adam the beating for my decision. Granted, he'd forced me to it, but it was a merciful way out. We needed to get Sam to see that. Sam's lips, slightly parted, shook as he looked at us with pain obvious in his light eyes.

"Bonnie, why? Why didn't you let me in? I could have stopped this." I was shaking my head as he pleaded with me. Thankful that she did so voluntarily for a change, I rescinded my wolf's control over my body.

"Sam, I make my own decisions. You cannot make them for me; otherwise, I'll lose everything I've ever worked to gain. Just, let it be, please. If there's nothing else left to do"—I shot a questioning glance at Adam—"then I'll go back with you , just take your anger out on me, yes?" I refused to open my mate bond, needing a clear head—not that that was easy with my wolf raging at me for causing Sam and Samuel pain and tying us down to a "lesser" male. Smacking her back so to allow personal thought, I gently pulled at my right hand and he relinquished his grip. Sam leaned into my hand when I reached up and laid it on his cheek. I was concerned that I'd made some dire folly. I only hoped that my wolf and I could fix it, whatever we did.

Samuel, for I knew it was he by the darker shade of his eyes, stood and lent me a hand which he then slung around my waist when I was on my feet. Stifling an irritated growl at his possessiveness, I cast about for a paper and pen to write my personal cell phone number. Not seeing any, I bit my lip and faced Adam. Samuel and Adam were in a testosterone-fueled stare down. I got between them and raised an inquisitive brow. "Do you mind if I project the number directly into your mind? There isn't any paper in the vicinity." At Adam's questioning gaze I added, "For my personal cell phone number. It's the only consistently safe line I have. I'm also going to need to know if my car is still filled with my things and its location."

Adam nodded his acquiesce and replied, "Go ahead. Perhaps this will be a more efficient way of getting orders into people."

I laughed bitterly. "Actually, this is a lesser version of the actual spell. It's a torture enchantment meant to sear a message onto the mind of someone until all they feel is pain and the incessant need to repeat whatever message was branded into their conscious and unconscious minds. My grandfather was the one who thought to use it on a very minor scale to send messages between members of the family without risking unwanted ears. The full enchantment is a Ravenwood signature."

The Alpha dipped his head admiringly as I warned him that it would burn, but would be nothing if he had the pain tolerance I suspected. I placed my fingertips gently against his forehead and stared at the wall behind him, silently speaking the modified incantation and the message I wanted him to remember. He tensed and when I finished, Adam had sweat beading his forehead. His eyes were wide and impressed. He informed me that they'd left my car, filled with my belongings beside my apartment building. With a nod, I left with Sam, trying to ignore all the alien voices in my head and block them out as efficiently as I had Samuel. It was a downhill battle until they receded on their own. Samuel's grip on my arm was tight and unyielding.

I got into Samuel's back seat and held Caleb in my lap. He cowered from Samuel and hugged my neck, saying that he'd protect his Mama if Dr. Cornick tried to hurt her again in Irish. The effect of my brave little trooper was lost with his somnolent tone and frequent yawns. For the moment I was content to just have my boy in my arms as Samuel drove us to my apartment building and then I followed him back to a large house across town. The white siding looked homey as well as the wrap-around porch and the two story architecture that reminded me of Victorian age housing like those I'd seen in the suburbs and old towns back east. I paused where I parked, still seated in my car, biting a thumb nail and wondering if it was really such a good idea to head into what might be the lion's den. . . Or would wolf's den have been more apropos?

With a gusty sigh, I grabbed two suitcases: one contained my clothes, the other contained Caleb's. My eyes roved around the spacious foyer into the two adjacent sitting rooms to either side. The furnishings of the sitting rooms were meager but new and very comfortable looking. Directly in front of me, a stair case led to the next floor with two hallways to the left and right of the stairwell. One led to a kitchen, the other to what may have been a dining room. Caleb rubbed his eyes and snuggled closer into the apex of my shoulder and neck. Samuel walked in from the left-hand-side hallway from the kitchen and dropped his car keys on the little table next to the stairs.

"I didn't know a single man needed so much space, Samuel," I commented quietly. My eyes followed the line of the warm honey-color walls to the high ceiling up until they found the urbane crystal chandelier far above my head.

He sighed and brought his eyes up to meet mine. "I don't. But sometimes my Da comes to visit or my brother, Charles, and his mate, Anna. I got the strange urge to buy this a few days ago. After Mercy's trailer exploded, I needed some place to go, and the hotel didn't feel quite right."

"I know that feeling. I've always preferred houses to flats and tiny apartments are even worse. . . . God, I wonder how long it has been since I last stayed in a house?"

With Caleb out I wanted someplace to lie him down, my arms were getting tired and quite frankly, I was exhausted. Seeing this house, though it was nothing like the one from my dream, reminded me of the whispered niceties that Samuel had proffered to me in my sleep. Thinking of the paradise that that really was, I almost welcomed the ability to sleep in a familiar stranger's home. Or was it a home yet? It was probably still only a new house to him. After a few moments of silence, Samuel led me up the stairs and showed me to a room that I could share with Caleb. Once my boy was tucked in I walked back out to face Samuel. He didn't seem as capricious as he had when we'd left Adam's and his eyes were a safe blue. Without saying a word, he led me to the large master bedroom at the end of the hall. I shut the door behind me with as little sound as possible. My eyes avoided Sam and found that the walls were a vibrant green with gold-colored accents and dark wood furniture. The bathroom, from what I could see through the door to my left, was similarly styled. Sadly, my inquisitive tendencies couldn't let me procrastinate the coming storm. I pulled my gaze to the tall, dusty-brown haired form in front of me.

"Why?" His wide shoulders looked tense, and his words were more accented with the Welsh lilt he had originally had so long ago.

I leaned against the door, my hands splayed on the wood behind me. I chose my words carefully and fought to restrain the urge I shared with my wolf to put my arms around Samuel and beg forgiveness. Sighing, I answered in a low tone. "It was either become pack and use my magic for clean up detail or whatever else was necessary or die and leave Caleb alone and at the mercy of my 'loving' family." My tone turned sarcastic when I mentioned my family. A headache played along my temples, making it harder for me to quell my wolf's unending needling.

Samuel shook his head and looked at his white ceiling. "Bonnie, I could have bartered with Adam, gotten my father involved or at the very least been there to fight for you should it have come to that. And all you had to do was let me, just for a moment."

She whined and strained against my self control to go to Samuel. Squeezing my eyes shut, I asked wearily, "Samuel, what choice did I have? I've always made my own decisions. I was not about to go crying to anyone to fix it."

"I am your _mate_, Siobhan. You should have"—he turned and pinned me with a gimlet stare—"consulted me first."

"And I know that, but how long have I really known, you, Samuel? Honestly? In the grand scheme of things, we're strangers. I do not trust someone immediately because my wolf tells me to. I've been burned so many times by the people closest to me, it isn't easy for me to just put all my faith in one random person. You know my history. You also should know that I've been rogue so long, I don't know what it's like not to run and be alone." _I'm afraid to trust anyone; I don't want to be hurt again,_ I tried to tell him with my eyes. I blinked and bit my lip to stop the tears gathering in my eyes from spilling over. "Samuel, I was afraid for Caleb. If I had declined Adam's offer, I would be dead in a field and Caleb would be an orphan. I don't have a will or any documents for him that would lead anyone to get him to my grandfather, who is the only other being on this earth that I would trust to keep my baby safe. What could I do?" I covered my mouth, horrified that my voice cracked and hid my face from Samuel. But I was too late to miss seeing the hurt that crossed his face.

We were both terribly broken, crippled by the bitterness and pain our pasts had borne for us. He was looking for me to be his saving grace, a light of hope for the disappointments and losses he'd bared. I wasn't sure if I could be that when I was so afraid of being controlled and betrayed by someone I allow close to my heart. The worst part was that I knew at some point, our very lives may depend upon the other, and that knowledge cramped my stomach in fright, dread.

Curling my arms around my middle, I held my breath, refusing to cry or sob. I shook from my efforts, but they were in vain. Tears spilled over my eyes and hit the carpet. Almost immediately, Samuel was holding me, rocking me as I did Caleb when he had an especially bad nightmare. He murmured sweet nothings in my ear and then picked me up and sat back on his large bed with me in his lap. I felt so weak, baring so much of myself to another person, but I could not help it. Since the day my parents disowned me and declared me an enemy of the family, I hadn't been able to be anything but a pillar of unrelenting strength for Caleb. Seven years later, it was still that way, but I was getting so tired of bearing it all on my own shoulders. The only thing I missed about having my family was having my grandfather near when I couldn't handle the pressure any longer. He was the only who held me when I cried instead of cursing me for my "weakness."

Maybe, I wondered, maybe Samuel was the answer to my problem. In a distant part of my mind I hoped that he would be I prayed he wouldn't betray me, too. If I let him in, I couldn't ever bear that. I would simply break apart. My heart had been beaten so many times, it was fragile, and the distance I kept between people and myself was what kept it from further damage. In time, however, that could change. I was mentally incapable of putting my heart in the hands of a person of which I only knew the bare basics. My wolf, as protective of our son as she was, had to have some sense I lacked. A savage animal such as she did not trust easily nor without provocation. If she could trust Samuel and his wolf so absolutely in so short a time, there had to be a reason, and if I wanted to live out the century, I had better start putting some stock in her judgment. So while Samuel may not get my complete trust or adoration, it was within my immediate power to give him this one moment, this one show of weakness. I hadn't given into my own feelings in years; this sort of action was not given by me often or lightly.

Here I was, expecting a verbal lashing and receiving solace instead. I almost wished I had received the former. With the way my life was thus far, I was used to life's unfairness and cruelty rather than the kindness Samuel was giving. Not sure how I should react, I just cried out my frustration and pain over everything that had happened, that I'd done wrong in the past few years. Never once, in the duration of my hysterics, did Samuel let me go, laugh at me, shove me away, or curse me for being so weak as my mother and, occasionally, my grandmothers had in my childhood. And for that, I was tremendously grateful.

As my tears subsided and I was drifting off to sleep, I whispered, "Samuel, please don't let me fall. Don't let go."


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N**: Hello Readers!_

_Thanks to all of you, this story set a new personal record for number of hits on one fanfic! On another note . . . The reviews are also making me exceptionally happy. Hopefully, you're enjoying the story will comment and tell me if I need to improve. Remember: You can do that! Just hit the little button at the bottom of the page and let me know what you think-I can't make it better if I don't get feedback. Now, enough with my blabbering and on with the story!_

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Chapter 7 –

The next morning I woke up and idly wondered if I was losing my mind. This was the second time I'd woken up next to a man I barely knew—fortunately, it was the same guy.

I rolled to the side, out from under Samuel's arm. Thinking back on it, I felt incredibly embarrassed over my conduct last night. I could have handled that so much better. . . Oh well, at least it was over with. Looking around, I realized that I hadn't brought my stuff in from the foyer. I didn't want to go downstairs and risk some random step creaking and waking Samuel up, so I peeled my shirt off and snatched a button-up from Samuel's closet. I felt guilty and just a little sick at the satisfaction that action brought me. Okay, so I was also a little ashamed that I liked that it smelled like him, but no one could ever drag that tidbit out of me unless they dug around in my head and threatened Caleb.

I bit my lip and moved to check on Caleb when my stomach growled loudly and Samuel's eyes blinked open. Almost immediately, his gaze homed in on me like I had some tracking beacon directly linking me to his brain.

"Bonnie," he mumbled drowsily, "Why are you up so early? Is that my shirt?" Samuel swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. I had the sudden urge to move over and run my hand over his ashy brown hair. Confused, I wondered why until I recognized the urge for what it was: my wolf had woken up for the day and wanted to cuddle! Oh, that's a real shocker. At least, that's what I was telling myself.

I stayed in place and attempted to remember the lame excuse I had made to myself when I originally donned the shirt. "I, uh, well. . ." My eyes wandered around the room, but always seemed to find Samuel. He stood up and moved closer until I was staring at his collarbone.

"You well, what, Bonnie?" His inquiry was accompanied by his hand cradling my cheek; his other hand ran down from my shoulder until he knit our fingers together. "_These actions leave me so tongue tied_," I berated myself.

I shook my head quickly and attempted a semi-intelligible reply. "I, uh, felt disgusting in my other shirt, so I borrowed yours. I-I didn't want to go downstairs and, um, wake you to get my bags. . . You don't mind, do you?" My breath quaked through my chest until I cleared my throat and forced myself to innocently meet his eyes. I hated that I had to look up to do so, but it wasn't any less effective.

Samuel blinked with a soft, fond smile. He murmured, "Not at all. Feeling any better after last night?" I jerked my head up and down. His grin widened, though his eyes still held my gaze affectionately while he pressed his lips to my forehead. "Good. Go check on Caleb, do whatever you have to do, and if you want to get cleaned up, send him down to me. I will have him help me with breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan, Samuel," I answered, still watching his eyes. Neither of us moved to leave, though that was a sufficient parting statement. I was rooted to the spot by another obscure impulse to run my free hand through his ashy brown hair.

The only difference was that this time, I did not hold back. I also did it without understanding why until I realized that my wolf wasn't the one pushing for it. I might actually be somehow hormonal, which had not occurred since I was a teenager and didn't have Caleb.

Faster than I could blink, I was kissing Samuel with an arm around his neck pulling him down to my level, and a hand curled around his head, in his hair. All I could think about was how _right_ it felt. It didn't feel wrong like when I had gone to the doctor, alone, to see how Caleb was when I was still pregnant. The kiss did not make me feel dirty or unclean like the looks I got from witches after they sense my magic in a werewolf; or other weres' scathing glowers when I was brought into the pack.

Maybe my wolf was right about Samuel after all, I mused.

When we broke away for air, Samuel laughed breathlessly. He wondered aloud, "What's with the sudden change of heart, Siobhan?"

Noting the new lightness of his eyes, I smirked. "I have no idea." And then I nearly smacked myself in the forehead. I had been kicking myself for thinking about him, had planned to skip town and avoid Samuel, and now I was making out with him and wearing his shirt like we're newlyweds. There was something seriously wrong with me and it wasn't my wolf for once.

Having watched me closely, Samuel's face fell as he stated, "And now you're regretting it. What am I doing wrong? Please, Bonnie, just tell me, since you won't let me in your head long enough for me to find out."

"I am _not_ regretting it! I'm just . . ."

"Ashamed of it?" he supplied. His eyebrows rose. Though he was very good at hiding it, I still caught the raw pain in Samuel's eyes. It killed me knowing that I was the cause of that; worse yet, this only succeeded in puzzling me further. I did not think that I cared for Samuel, but I had only ever felt this amount of guilt for Caleb or my grandfather's on happiness. What was happening to me?

Shamefaced, I frowned and my head hit his shoulder. I groaned, "No! Ugh, I am so sorry. It's just that I'm rather confused since I barely know you and yet I have a very insistent wolf in my head that wants me to throw myself at you." I sighed and backed up. I whispered, "And now I don't even know who feels what." Before Samuel—or Sam, for that matter—could say anything, I ignored my wolf and opened the bedroom door so I could go wake Caleb up and get him clean. An empty feeling ripped itself in me when our fingers tore apart.

Trying not to think too hard, I snuck down the hall and into the guest bedroom. I entered to find Caleb sound asleep. Glancing at the clock, I laughed at Sam's past question of why I was up so early. I shook my head. It was eight thirty in the morning. "Early, indeed."

Caleb rolled over so he was facing me my sarcasm faded. He looked so sweet, though that little snore of his had been getting a lot worse with age. My son blinked and rubbed his eyes. That small action wrung a small smile from me.

I padded over to him and knelt at the bedside. I took his hand. "Caleb," I murmured. "Wake up, sweetie. C'mon, up and at 'em, Caleb." He grumbled and snuggled into his covers, snatching his hand back to cover his face. I twisted my mouth and huffed, "Fine, you want to play hard ball, kiddo? Here's a curveball, for you!"

I grabbed Caleb and slung him over my shoulder while he cried out. I spun him around to his delight. This managed to wrangle a laugh from me as well. "Mama! Mama lemme down! Stop it," my son protested. Meanwhile, he was giggling excitedly and wide awake. My cackling increased as I pulled Caleb into my arms. I only kept a hold of his legs. When coming face-to-face with the carpet, he cried, "Mama, let me back up! Lemme up!" His small hands reached up for me.

"Oh, come on, monkey boy! You can climb up yourself, can't you?"

"I can't! Mama! Lemme up!"

I made a sound of consideration. "What's the magic wooord?" I sang.

"Please, Mama! Please let me up!" Caleb's elated laughter rang in my ears like the most beautiful of bells.

I swung him up into my arms and grinned. "Okay. How'd you sleep?" He replied that he had slept great and was very hungry. I brought him to the bathroom and told him to shower and actually use the soap. I added as a last thought that his clothes would be laid out when he was finished.

My maternal instincts told me that I wasn't the only mother to ever have her son groan over having to bathe with soap. Considering how good he usually was, it seemed like a natural occurrence.

Singing to myself, I waited for the water to turn on then hurried down the stairs for our suit cases. But I never got to take them up. They weren't at the foot of the stairs where I left them, and when I looked back into Caleb's room and Samuel's, our bags were already there and opened. I shook my head. Well, I considered, at least my wolf knew how to pick a gentleman.

No sooner had I set his clothes down than Caleb turned the shower off. I ordered him downstairs to help Dr. Cornick with breakfast. His perpetual alacrity never ceased, and it was one of the many things I loved about my son. I heard his happy yell as he stomped down the stairs asking Samuel where he was. While listening to the sounds of Samuel and Caleb making breakfast, I stripped out of Sam's shirt, my shorts, and underwear. Fortunately for me, my son used little hot water which left me with a great deal to help me relax.

The hot water ran down my back in glorious streams. It did nothing to aid the plethora of knotted muscles in my back, but it did help me think. One thing I really hated about being a werewolf was that I couldn't go swimming in any water that I couldn't touch my feet in. The upside to this was that I was a werewolf and it helped me protect Caleb better.

Sighing, I switched the water off. As much as I adored avoiding people, my problems, and taxes, I couldn't evade Samuel much longer. Besides, I was really, _really_ hungry and I could smell waffles and bacon from the shower. They smelled incredible.

The saying, "The quickest way to an animal's heart is through its stomach," is incredibly on the mark. It also happens to hold true to me. It's why half of my dressing took place while walking down the stairs.

When I entered the kitchen, Caleb was already sitting at the table with a plate of chocolate chip waffles and bacon. Another plate towering with waffles sat on the large oak table. It looked like another plate was being mounded with bacon. Samuel had his back to me at the stove. He turned to look for the source of my soft footsteps. I finger combed my curls and smiled at him. I peaked over his shoulder to find him cooking bacon and and my grin spread. Samuel spoke offhandedly:

"I was unaware that your hair was that curly."

I backed away and looked for a plate. Sam pointed me to a cabinet in front of his right shoulder. As I took two plates down I sighed. "I know. It's pretty annoying. Not very becoming, right?"

Samuel shook his head. He opened his mouth to reply at the moment that someone knocked on the front door. He wiped his hands on a towel then threw it over his shoulder. "Hold that thought," he suggested. I listened to his steps heading for the door while setting up a couple plates and keeping an eye on the bacon. A hushed argument came to my sensitive ears, but I couldn't tell who the other person was.

"Bonnie!" Samuel called for me. His voice sounded strained and irritated. I stuck my head into the foyer. He beckoned me closer and I saw that Adam was on the porch. Samuel put his arm possessively around my shoulders before he informed me, "Adam says he has a cleanup job for you to take care of. I said it could have waited another hour, but he does not think it can." I looked up into his blue eyes, sucking on my lower lip. He looked worried but I wondered whether it was was about what I might see or do, or just about letting me out of his sight.

Though Samuel seemed to be waiting for something, I gave him a sympathetic look and turned my attention to the Alpha on the stoop. "I don't see why I can't get it done. I mean, that's part of the reason why I'm not dead, right?" A very cheery, important, seven year old though struck me. What was I going to do with Caleb? I wasn't going to take him to a job. Who knew what Adam wanted me to clean up?

Imploring Samuel with my eyes, I inquired quietly, "Will you watch Caleb? Please?" It meant a lot for me to trust Samuel with my son.

Thankfully, he saw that. His eyes softened and his hand squeezed my side. "Yes, I will. There's not much here for kids to do, but we'll find something," he said confidently. He still wasn't happy, and I was still confused about what I felt for him, but this was one step towards figuring it all out.

Nodding, I told him about Caleb's toys in my car. I turned to Adam. "Shall we?" Adam turned on his heel and I followed him dutifully, pondering what it was exactly that I had to clean up. I asked him as much when I was in the car with him.

Hauptman glanced at me before looking back at the road. "Mercy's garage was trashed last night and we found a dead vampire in one of the cars she's working on. I'm not sure why, but it reeks of cat. To be quite honest, we have no idea what we're dealing with. On the other hand, Mercy has to open in an hour. Think you can make that deadline?"

"Child's play," I scoffed. "But just out of curiosity, is anyone placing bets on this? I may need the cash."

Without even looking at me, Adam sighed and parked his car. We were outside a little garage and I felt, more than heard, the hum of a security system. The Alpha muttered to himself, "What the hell was I thinking?"

I laughed and got out, calling back to him, "Main part of the garage?" Hauptman gave an affirmative and then led me to the crime scene. As soon as I stepped in the door, I froze. The stench of blood and cat was overwhelming, but I did detect the undercurrent of magic: that's made me pause.

My worried gaze went to Adam while he looked expectantly at me. Slowly I asked him, "What do you smell, Adam?"

He frowned, and inhaled deeply. He automatically replied, "Blood and feline. I just told you this, Siobhan."

I rolled my eyes before continuing. "Yes, I understand that. That's what they want you to notice. But I want to know if it makes your nose tingle, itch, or your head feel funny."

The Alpha's brow knitted in confusion until he started to catch on. He thought for a moment before voicing his inquiry:

"So what does that mean? The same thing happens with bleach and harsh chemicals."

"It also happens around my family's brand of strong magic. Sight wise, you can't tell the difference between reality and their illusions; the only tipoff is often a feeling of vertigo, or an itchy, tingly nose." My arms crossed over my chest and I fleetingly met Adam's eyes before looking back in the garage. "If you give me a minute, I can show you that that 'vampire' is actually a large cat glamoured to look like a vampire. If I'm wrong, which I highly doubt, then there are two other options: either you have a new type of shapeshifter on your hands or you or your mate pissed off someone with trained hunting cats."

My grimace deepened and I stepped toward the car, careful to avoid the blood. Sadly, that was near impossible. Bloody drag marks led from the back door to the passenger door of the car. A pool of congealing blood had seeped into the cracks in the floor. Tools had been scattered and a bloody pry bar laid in the puddle of red fluid. Brownish-red flecks fanned out across the garage and upon further inspection, the car's interior was ruined. The area around the body reeked the worst of feline; likewise, it also made my nose itchiest.

The body itself looked unidentifiable. The only tipoff that it was a "vampire" was the fang in the ravaged face's mouth. Claw marks and missing chunks of hide implied that a beast had caused the damage. The manner in which it was done, or appeared to be done, suggested only manic brutality. It wasn't calculated, only harsh and lethal, which pointed in the direction of a cat. As I focused closer on the body, concentrating solely on the body, I saw the image of the vampire flicker. I straightened up, shaken but determined. Waving my hand at the body I told Adam of my discovery, secretly dying inside over what this all meant.

I knew that my family had found me and was sending a message to me. They knew I was here, they knew I was finally tied down to a pack, and it was only a matter of time until they came after me directly. More to the point, my mother and mentor was closing in and this was her way of telling me so. Our next meeting, which would probably be soon, knowing her, would not be over tea and crumpets. Though I didn't care much about my well-being at this point, I knew she might spare me. I was the best of my other sisters, and she personally put in nearly two decades worth of time, effort, sweat, and blood into my training. She wasn't about to just let that kind of asset slip away. My son, however, the product of a rape by an enemy clan, did not have that advantage.

Worst of all, I was cornered by the people who trained me, raised me from birth to be a witch matriarch and all that involved: being an assassin, a strategist, a leader, a teacher, a scholar, an ace witch, a politician but above all, I made to be lethal. I was probably outgunned and under surveillance. Normally, I found a new alias, a new car, slowly stored all my belongings over a period of days and then slipped away in the middle of the night. But I couldn't run anymore to keep them from getting their hands on me and mine. I had a pack and an (unwanted) mate. There was no escaping unless I wanted to violate every rule that now applied to me. The wolves knew I was alive and one of them. I couldn't stay a renegade any longer; it was that one tiny detail that might just get me and everyone I cared about killed.

Instinctively, I felt my mother must be tiring of our little game of cat and mouse. With me finally bound in what suddenly felt like chains, she planned to give me the fight of my life. On her terms and with as much fire power as possible. But I would be damned if I wasn't going to give it to her.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N**: Hello my beloved readers! Yes, it has been awhile since I last updated. I apologize, but I've had a very busy time between black belt testing and then starting school and adjusting to the workload. I've been working on this for a while though, freshly edited, and I hope you enjoy! And to everyone who reviewed, you are all _amazing_ people and I thank you! Don't forget to review again for this chapter, though! It reminds me that I do have a purpose for writing these things. ;) Enjoy!_

_Jane_

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Chapter 8-

Shaken and shuddering from the chills going down my spine, I waited patiently for Adam to drive me back to Samuel's house. One of my nervous habits is a lack of movement and opinion. I get very quiet and stare blankly at something until my ears catch something unusual.

I was in that state now. The wind blew my unruly curls in my face, a whirlwind of damp hair, flying every which way. My thoughts revolved around Caleb and Samuel and making sure they were okay when I got back. Generally, it was Ravenwood manner to do something drastic and misleading, send their victims on a wild goose chase, and wait anywhere from one month to six, and then strike when they have their guard down. Ravenwoods were also known, however, to randomly change tact. Staying unpredictable is what stays your untimely demise.

While Adam finished up resetting the security system, my eyes followed the sounds of a conversation that was far from mundane. The wind brought me bits and pieces of a tactics discussion; I rolled my neck when I heard my name mentioned. I eased away from the car, casually stretching and acting unaware while scoping out scene. The scent of blood carried from the direction of the voices, though well concealed. If it wasn't for the clothes they'd just dumped, I'd have cast the strong scent of bleach off as merely that of a cleaning crew. The chatters were a couple of my cousins. Not particularly the most vibrant crayons in the Crayola box, if you catch my drift. However, they were wonderful at brutalizing things: property, cars, nature, animals, bodies. They spoke in rushed Irish.

". . . But what of the boy? . . . won't be too happy about this . . . that 'were is guarding him. . . going to do, Angus?"

Cousin Angus, I realized with a jolt, had changed drastically in the last few years. He'd been fourteen when I had Caleb, making him twenty-one. Damn, he'd gotten big. Angus was now at least six foot four with an ego to outshine the sun. My other cousin, James, was with him. Three years my senior, James was now twenty-six and calling the shots. James had always been an arrogant pain in my ass. Being twice my height and weight since puberty, he had always made it his prerogative to make me look bad. When I looked bad, my mother took out my "disgrace" to her on my hide. There was a lot of pent up animosity between us, James and me. I had never lashed out at my cousin after Mother punished me, but there was always a first time. As I waited for Adam to get to his car, I half hoped for James to come after me now.

Angus, in stark contrast to his older brother, looked nervous. _As he should be_, I thought with not a little truculence. His ego was still obvious; however there was a tightness about his young eyes as they raced about that belied his worry. James was eager to go after me, but Angus, on the other hand knew a bit of what they were getting into. He'd once been hiding out when my mother and I had been fighting. Our fights had been cataclysmic. A combination of magic and manual combat that could have been deadly had we not been at the top of our games. I had always held back from my mother, though. I never wanted to hurt the woman that I was supposed to take over for. But that was long ago. Now I was just as good, or better, than I was then; I was totally prepared to give Mother the pathway to meet her maker. And I would have absolutely no regrets.

"Siobhan? Siobhan, if nothing is out of order, get in the car." The direct order made my wolf growl viciously. My entire being struggled to stifle the grumblings that she wished to unleash. The whole subordinate ordeal was going to take some getting used to. Though she called for blood, my wolf quieted down quickly—if not grudgingly—when reminded of the growing jeopardy to our boy. That was a miracle in and of itself.

Without looking at Adam, I obeyed, buckled up, and stared forward. Every sense was on high alert. About two blocks from Mercy's garage, I mentioned casually, "We're being followed by my cousins. If you want, drop me off just outside of town. I'll shift, leave my clothes with you, and find my way back to Sam via the bond."

"The silver Buick?" Adam asked just as offhandedly.

"Of course not. My cousin James is driving his truck. And like the gallsy son of a bitch he's always been, he's driving the huge Ford diesel. Think of him as a grunt with half a brain instead of a quarter of one."

The older wolf glanced in the rearview. He swung his head back and forth trying to see to either side of the cars in front of us. With a decided nod, Adam made a couple confusing turns taking us far out of our way. In fact, the route he was taking was more towards my abandoned apartment and the good batch of suburbia that I could escape through. Soon enough, we were outside the main part of the city, and my cousin's ostentatious Ford was nowhere to be seen nor heard. I was moving to hop in the back of Adam's SUV to shift into my wolf, the Alpha—my Alpha, I corrected myself—stopped me. "First thing, take it easy with the nails on the upholstery." I rolled my eyes and agreed to be careful. Hauptman continued, "Before you get in the back, explain to me what's really going on. I need to know what I'm getting into when I prep the pack for whatever it is you've brought on us."

I stared hard at Adam. It was difficult not to make prolonged, direct eye contact. Settling back into the passenger seat, I sighed with the weariness of ages I had yet to live. My voice echoed dismally back at me in the dim light the overcast day let into the car. "That was a completely staged body. It wasn't meant for you or for Mercy. It was meant purely for me. I have no idea how they found out so quick, but they know I'm your cleaner, now. That was a message from my family, my mother. They're coming to take me back to her to be beaten into submission and to take Caleb. Knowing my mother, she'll either kill him outright if she's feeling lazy, or use him against me if she happens to be feeling extra malicious and through."

My words were met with a scowl. His silence dragged and I began to expect the worst from the wolf at my left. I couldn't understand if he was merely processing what I'd told him, or planning on how to get rid of me and save his pack. God only knew that a sane man would be doing the latter. Taking a deep breath, I scoped the near area and decided on a good clump of bushes. Opening the door, I pressed my lips together and screwed my mouth up to the side. "When you figure out what you want to do with me, I'll be either on my way to, or at Samuel's. My clothes shall be behind that bush clump if you decide to be a Good Samaritan. Good day, sir!" With that I jumped out of the car and jogged across the street. He called after me, but by then I was already behind the before mentioned brush and in the throes of the Change.

The pain was excruciating, but freeing in an inexplicable way. There was some unknown attraction to the cracks of bones and burning of sinews realigning and reattaching themselves as you change from human to wolf. Once finished, I stood shakily, shook out my fur and opened my mate bond to Samuel ever so slightly. I could taste his mood but I couldn't tell where he was. He suddenly became puzzled. Shrugging it off, I eased it open a little more and I could glean his thoughts, but still there was no pinpointed location. As I went to open it just a little more, Samuel located the source of the strange, hovering presence in the back of his mind.

Samuel wrenched our bond open wide causing me to fall on my face as all his thoughts, feelings, and memories assaulted me. It was all so much to process, the life of someone centuries old with memories to match. I grumbled into the dirt while he asked me various questions as to my location and state of being. My wolf was far more forgiving than I was. Considering she'd caused the damn link between us, she had better take up being nice. I certainly wasn't when I had to leave a perfectly good set of clothes to the mercy of a stranger.

I shouted over my wolf at Samuel to please stop talking at me so I could find which direction I needed to go to find him. Considering all the chattering was internal, it was giving me enough trouble that I figured I'd have one major migraine later. Houses typical of suburbia flashed by on either side as I ran through back yards and hopped fences. It was already well past rush hour. Not many were still at home, so I ran little risk of being seen. It didn't take long to find the back of Samuel's house and he was standing there waiting for me with Caleb.

Caleb was lying in the grass coloring. His high voice hummed happily as his feet bounced to and fro. His crayon box was to his right, open and missing a couple of his favorite colors. I stalked around to the side and peered over Caleb's shoulder at what he was drawing. Due to my wolfish state, I kept my grin internal at what I saw there. He was depicting a very sweet picture of him, Samuel, and me. I had brown and gold squiggle hair and a blue triangle body with twiggy feet and hands with a little red_ u_ for a mouth and blue dots for eyes. Caleb gave himself brown curls, green-dot eyes, twig limbs and a black mouth. Samuel he made taller than both of us. Sam had the straight brown hair, black-dot eyes, a black mouth, and its left twig hand intersected with crayon-stick-Caleb's right. My drawing's left hand held Caleb's right and above it all read: "Best Frends Forever."

The sweetness of this made me think of how easy it would be to just . . . stop fighting and give Samuel everything he wanted but there was one major issue with that. One that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his past and a certain fae. . .

Regardless, I couldn't shake the longing that filled me from thoughts of a happily-ever-after with my mate.

I peered over my shoulder at Samuel. His hulking figure leaned against the doorjamb of the glass sliding door. It led into the small dining area next to the kitchen at the back of the house. Samuel's eyes gazed down at me with a look that reflected his emotions. I could read neither but that was due to the sheer intensity. His smile was adoring, awed. From his thoughts I gathered that he was marveling again at the way I looked as a wolf. For whatever unknown reason, he found me stunning in both forms. I thought I was average. The only thing special was that the black parts of my coat were wholly black, not speckled white like many others. Maybe the contrast of my eyes was what captivated him so? I saw no reason for it.

Deciding to focus on Caleb, I stuck my cold nose against his neck and snuffled in his ear. His high pitched giggle brought me joy and pain; joy because of his happiness, pain due to the pitch of the note and my hearing sensitivity. "Mama," he cried ecstatically. "Mama, lookit my drawering!"

I made a show of pushing my nose at his picture and examining it closely. Then I turned quickly, and licked his face all over eliciting another round of ear-damaging laughter. His thin arms hugged my neck tightly. The phone rang inside and Samuel left to answer it. I gleaned that it was Adam from his thoughts.

Soon, I had him chasing me around the yard. I barked happily, wagging my tail and prancing around, just out of reach. Caleb complained that I wasn't being fair; after all, I had four legs, he had only two. Just as I jumped over Caleb, I yelped as four sharp pains pierced my side and sent me reeling. Samuel's worry for me exploded in my head. Quickly, though, his focus joined mine as he grabbed Caleb up and ran him inside. Caleb screamed for me. Though it tore me to pieces, I turned my back on him and looked around for our attackers. My ears twitched in different directions hoping to pick up a sound. I heard leaves rustling, and, faintly, Adam's voice on the phone. My vision blurred and went in and out of focus with the waves of pain.

I was cursed for staying a wolf. I couldn't use magic well in that form because I couldn't focus the magic with a spell or words. There was the possibility of using will power to force it to do minor things, but the preciseness of that was touch-and-go, completely unreliable. Breathing caused me pain and the blood loss was beginning to take its toll. Normally, it wouldn't be that bad, but if I was feeling the effects as a wolf so soon, I was in some serious trouble.

My steps were pained and jerky. The focus it took me to keep watch around me instead of rushing off to Sam was immense. Footsteps sounded at my back and the alien feeling of home that invaded my distracted mind from Sam's closeness kept me from attacking him. He picked me up gingerly, brushing the wounds with his hands eliciting a jerk and pitiful whimpers. Sam hurried me inside and into the basement. Caleb's voice was teary while he ran to me. He put a hand on my injured side. I howled in pain at the rough touch. My wolf nearly snapped at him. I was losing control of her. Seeing this, Sam muzzled us with his hand. She growled at Sam and he responded in kind, more forcefully. My wolf, not being stupid, piped down. If she tried to challenge Sam, she wasn't exactly in a position to best him; he had us in experience, size, and he didn't have bullets lodged in his side.

Sam set me down carefully then ran to bar the doors. Caleb was staring at his hand in horror. I wished to go to him, comfort him, lie and say everything was fine. However, I could not. I could barely hear myself think for my wolf complaining at the explosive throbbing in our flank. Blood loss made me as loopy as it made the wolf bitchy. Idly, I thought of how shameful it was that I was getting blood all over Samuel's nice carpet. His basement was a dark room full of earthy colors: deep reds, browns, tans, and the occasional touch of blue or green. He had large, comfortable-looking couches in deep mahogany red suede with simple accent pillows. In the middle of the spacious, L-shaped room, there was a low oak coffee table; an upright lamp stood off to the side of one chair at the corner of the room where the rest of the space disappeared. Off to my left, a door stood partially open; the room beyond was unknown to me because the light could not reach far into its depths. Casting my eyes about, I mused that Sam seemed to have a thing for elegant simplicity; it was unsurprising given his history and personality. There was only one thing that surprised me and it sat on the opposite side of the room on a computer desk beside a flat screen PC monitor.

It was the picture of a very pretty woman in an ornate, aged silver frame. She had a warm look to her albeit, a cautious one. A stab of hurt jealousy pierced my heart at the picture. It had to be the fae that Samuel had mourned so deeply for so long. Knowing that he still felt that way, had recently been reunited with her, wounded me as surely as the bullets had. Before I could let Samuel get suspicious I clamped down on the mate bond. My wolf fought me, trying to open it back up and demand an explanation or a location so as to challenge the rival female. I smacked her down and steeled myself for the pain I was about to force on myself. It would be a reprieve from the emotional hurt, and it might just keep me from losing _all_ my blood. With one last, despairing thought of what could have been, I brought on the Change. _I need my magic, and I need it right _now.

Footsteps banged down the stairs. Samuel yelled at me to stop at the first sight of what I'd intended, but it was too late. I was already well into the internal part of it. He sat at my side, not touching me, though obviously feeling a need to do so. Samuel cursed enthusiastically in Welsh. His gaze bored holes into my side. I was too preoccupied with the exponential agony that had me curled into the fetal position to care. My wolf attempted to lend her focus to magic as well. Bones cracked and realigned themselves and I concentrated all conscious thought on forcing the bullets from their current positions back through their entry wounds. It hurt like a mother and reminded me of my heartless one—she would have enjoyed seeing me like this. Thankfully, it was working; the burning path the projectiles made through my flesh attested to that.

The change almost finished, my mind pushed at the bullets but quit. I started to black out. A large hand slapped my bare back; a jolt of adrenaline elicited a ferocious growl. I went back to willing the small pieces of lead to eject themselves when the same large hand curled itself around my left bicep and lifted. The stinging slice of a blade came and went over used projectiles. A pair of careful forceps prodded through the sinew to find each bullet, four separate times. Tears blurred my vision and I bit down on my lip until it bled. A rolling snarl spun from my lips; my left hand grabbed the shirt of my field surgeon. Finally, it stopped. Only the emptiness and left over soreness pained me.

The sounds of muffled crying and rustling cloth met my ears. A paw of a hand gingerly cleared my eyes and pulled me into the lap of its owner. Samuel covered my nakedness with one of his shirts: a clean, white dress shirt that smelled so strongly of my mate, I couldn't help but snuggle into it. My eyelids fluttered while exhaustion overcame me. My focus narrowed, lips parted; the only thing I could see was Samuel. He was anchoring me to the earth in a way my son could not. It was almost as if he was lending me his life force, channeling it from him, through his hands, our bond, into me. I thought of Caleb, tried to speak his name but could not manage it. Samuel's face was full of determination. He looked away from me and yelled something I couldn't decipher. I only knew he said anything from the vibrations of his chest.

Samuel said something else as echoing vibrations shook the house. I was fading from the world, but smiled when Caleb came into my vision. If I died, I knew I could trust Samuel to take care of him. Caleb clung to me, crying. The basement door, at the top of the stairs exploded inward as everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: Okay, so it's been over two (three?) years since I last updated, but after someone else reviewed I went back and reread the ending of that last chapter and decided I should at least continue with something. Forgive any universal discrepancies, I haven't read a Mercy book for a year or more and I'm just trying to continue the story at this point. Also, I didn't do much editing except for chance things I saw, so be kind if there are a ton of typos. I wanted to get this to all of you as soon as it was finished. Enjoy, fair readers! _**

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Chapter 9 –

The table beneath my back was frigid against my skin, seeping through tissues and into my bones. I shivered and moved to wipe my face but my arm was bound at the wrist next to my side with abrasive old rope. Upon cursory inspection, I found my legs to be bound at both the knee and ankle. A growl ripped from my chest at being so restrained. It would appear that my family had grown weary of our chase and went after me and mine at a moment of calm. To my shame, I had not been watching quite so closely as I should have. Though it would not do to keep berating myself, I continued to criticize my carelessness as I strained at my bindings. How could I have been so stupid as to not be scanning my surroundings?

My thoughts strayed to my son and, unable to see much in the darkness, I raised my nose to scent the air. There was no trace of my Caleb or Samuel. The smell of my mother, however, was overwhelming. A silent snarl gracing my lips, I rolled my eyes around wildly, looking for her. Her scent was far too strong for her to have left. With a deep breath I growled through my teeth, "Mother. Lovely seeing you again. Care to show your face like a civilized being?"

A sardonic chuckle echoed around me. "When my daughter is now little better than a dog? I think not. Especially when she refuses to come to heel."

"Woof."

A barbed whip snaked out, biting at my ribs. I inhaled, taking in air enough to pain my lungs before letting it out in a laugh. I quipped, "You've gotten rusty, Mother."

The sounds of machines coming to life, whirring at my mother's behest rumbled beneath my ears. The table I was on separated, baring a frame upon which I was bound and the separate metal slab that had held my back. The bitch that haunted my thoughts and nightmares lurked behind me: I could feel it. There was no other reason for it to be so cold at my back unless a freezer was open or my mother the Ice Queen was there. Her heart was cold enough to suck the heat out of a volcano. The whip whistled through the air once more and tore a line across my back. "Not quite, Siobhan." The whistle, the pain. I felt hot rivulets of my own blood run down my back. I could just imagine the smile she would have on her face. "I shall break you yet," she murmured, though she paused and posed more loudly, "Though I know that physical pain has not had the effect upon you it once did when you were a child, I have other means now to cow you." She barked an order in Irish and my cousin James led in Caleb.

My boy was struggling and looked afraid, James smacked him, barking that he shut up and stop fidgeting. A growl roared out of my chest, pulling and straining at my bonds. When that failed, I began hurling curses at James, promising death if he didn't unhand my son. He sneered at me. "Oh, really, and how are you going to do any of that, cousin? Spit on me, eh?" I stopped suddenly. Glaring malevolently, I focused on James and only James, murmuring a curse that would leave him writhing in agony. My mother tried whipping me, viciously to earn my silence as James let go of Caleb and dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach. I refused to yield, eventually growling out the words through clenched teeth as my cousin wriggled, silent and strained, trapped within his own personal hell. My mother had other plans. She intercepted my son as he ran to come to my side, whipping a knife from her back pocket; she grabbed him by the neck with her free hand. He choked, coughing and clawing at her hand even while she pressed the blade to his cheek. He was having trouble breathing and I was torn between inflicting more pain on my mother's toady and stopping for Caleb's sake: Luckily, my maternal instinct won out and I stopped. Tension knotted my muscles into violent cables around my body, bleeding, bruised and crying out at the abuse.

Focusing on my mother, I didn't even glance in James' way when I replied, "No, James. I tore you apart from the inside without touching a hair on your head." Mother was smirking, the blade pressing into the cheek of my son. Caleb was quivering: his fear bit into me, the scent hitting my system and the sight of that terror in his eyes infuriating me at my own impotence.

Smirking, the Ravenwood matriarch raised a brow, her face looking almost exactly like mine, but older, crueler, lined with the cold-blooded sins of her life. She inquired drily, "If you children are quite finished, I'd like to get to the point."

"Of course, Mother," I simpered, taking great pains to avoid panting and betraying weakness; the sound of my own blood pattering onto the floor in sluggish, steady rhythm. "I'd prefer you to get to the point. My indulgence won't last long, and next time James'll be dead. I won't be looking for pain."

"Words, Siobhan. You haven't the facilities to kill your own blood. That damned conscience always kept you from that."

"Yes, but that was before he slapped my son. I've no qualms killing scum that beats children for the wrongs of others." My brow rose meaningfully at her, eyeing the knife. The psychotic bitch then grinned and pressed the edge closer to his cheek. Caleb yelped, sniffling and crying out to me in Irish, telling me how frightened he was, how he wanted me to help him. I clenched my jaw: if she saw him as my one major weakness, she'd lay him on a slab, tie him down, and torture him for hours before my eyes before I broke. I couldn't let that happen. So I attempted to ignore the cries of my child, my baby boy being cut and half choked by his own grandmother.

Her voice cold, calculatingly and sickeningly amused, she asked, "So you care for this filthy whelp, born of our rivals more than your own true born family? Is that it?" The eyes, blue as my own but infinitely more bitter cold, a gateway to the frozen waste that she dared call a soul, scrutinized my reaction: the most minute details would not escape her.

"Of course not," I scoffed, heart breaking at the look in Caleb's face. "But considering I've spent the last seven years rearing him in accordance to our laws and the hope of infiltrating his father's family, I thought he would make as good excuse as any to exact revenge on that sorry excuse for a male you dare to call my relative." I met her gaze levelly, daring her to say different. "And perhaps the animal I share space with keeps a softer place in her heart for him than I. I find small indulgences keep her more complacent." It was believable; it had to be. My only attempt at bluffing her out was to make her think I'd matured, that I'd come into my Ravenwood heritage and developed into the leader she wanted me to be: her.

Her mouth pursed and she sneered in disgust, dashing Caleb to the floor. As she came over to me, she barked over her shoulder: "Get up! Imbecile, get your brother and bring in the wolf. Preferably whole." Groans and the sound of cloth scraping on stone echoed off the walls as my cousin rose from his spot on the ground. James, before he left, grabbed up a cudgel from the wall of weapons and torture devices, He had death in his eyes as he stormed in my direction, taking aim and swinging at my leg. I focused on the cudgel, forgetting my mother, uttering a spell to set the implement on fire, burning his hand. He yelped, dropping it. My mother beat him to the retaliation, however. With a great smile, she had pulled another blade from her pocket and now plunged it into my side. From the agony that exploded there, it was not just a steel blade: it was silver, and it was magicked to thirst especially for the blood of 'weres. I grunted, barely withstanding, but she pushed harder and then twisted and to my shame, I screamed. It felt as though the burning was spreading through my veins, my abdomen. She wiggled the blade back and forth within my side and I cried out, shuddering and biting my lip nearly through. Breathing was pain, so was moving. The cruel mistress which had so lovingly kissed my side seemed to be sapping my strength, the magic and silver spreading through my system for minutes as my mother watched with immense joy as I hung on the square frame, head hung down, bleeding from my side and my back. I looked up, eyes straying over her shoulder, finding Caleb crouched in a corner, hugging himself and wanting to come to me. Seeing my eyes on him, he started to get up. Thankfully for us both, my look stayed him.

Mother leaned in closely and muttered in my ear, "That was for running away and not letting me kill the child when I wished. Though your idea has some merit, I doubt it'll work, though he's strong; you've taught him well. We could easily use him as a slave until we find a better purpose for him to serve." She grabbed the knife once more, pulling upwards slowly. I choked on my own curse, pain constricting my throat. Cold sweat glazed my body like the glistening oil on a perfect golden Turkey though not nearly as appetizing or joy bringing. "And the point, my dear, is that you are going to atone for your sins and then you will comply with whatever I tell you. If I say shift and kill, you will. If I say jump, you jump. If I say come, you run to me bowing and scraping. I will not have this sort of disgrace left upon me; I refuse to allow my own daughter, my chosen successor, to cause dissension in the ranks, am I making myself clear, Siobhan?"

I murmured, barely more than a whisper my reply. Had she been a wolf, she'd have heard me. As it was, she leaned her head in closer, "What was that?" she bid me speak louder, her teeth together in an almost mocking imitation of baring her fangs.

I licked my lips, hissing as she jiggled the handle. My throat convulsed as I tried to swallow and then clear my throat. Aiming at giving a louder retort, my lungs took in more air, causing pain to knife through me. "I said, 'Take out the goddamn knife, or y-you—'" I broke off, running out of air. Wheezing in a couple shallow breaths, I finished, "'or you can rot in hell.'"

She tore the blade from my side, leaving a messy, bloody, meaty gash behind blood rushing to meet the air. With the hilt of the blade, she bashed at my jaw, smearing the red mess from my side across my face. I was beginning to black out from blood loss, almost glad of it, when she put her hand to my side and began healing her own handiwork. Enough to keep me alive, but not enough to ease the pain a new scar could give me. She'd done this often enough in my childhood, or things like it, that I knew exactly when it would start, when it would end, and how she would test to make sure I would die of internal bleeding before I'd made myself useful. She appraised my side for tell tale signs of blood pooling then took the index and middle fingers of her right hand and jabbed at the scar, mimicking a knife. I stiffened, barely restraining a yelp. Soon, the door above and to the left of us opened and James and Angus came down carrying Samuel between them. He was chained in what I assumed to be some sort of silver alloy because he wasn't struggling. My heart clenched and my wolf clamored for retaliation at the lines of agony in his body and strain in his face.

Unadulterated anger seemed to consume his eyes at the sight of me and his nostrils flared catching the scent of my blood then the much weaker one of Caleb. His head rotated to my boy and he glanced between him and me before he'd changed tact appraising my mother and me. He took in the blood staining my mother's hands. He could clearly recall her face, every act she'd committed against me, every harsh word he'd vicariously lived through my memories; unadulterated hatred shadowed his eyes. His mouth was bound and gagged, and his face was swollen in several places, but that didn't stop the obvious spark of defiance that he barely kept in check. His knuckles were bruised and split, as was his jaw, though he was healing reasonably well. I thanked whatever gods out there that Samuel—I was fairly certain he was still in control though the way my vision wavered brought an element of doubt to cloud my judgment—was old enough that his wolf had sense enough to assess the situation rather than rashly bull rush into a catastrophe and overpower his bodily companion.

My mother stalked toward the other wolf. My own inner beast struggled against our fatigue and tried to wrest control from me. I barely succeeded in keeping her in line. If she, my wolf, that is, showed any feeling at all, Mother wouldn't stop until she'd exhausted every potential weakness. Instead, I hung limp against my bonds, trying to find something close to focus, clarity. Bloodloss and pain left my vision unclear.

"So this is the mongrel to whom my daughter has attached herself?" God, how I hated that condescending snarl she called a voice. You could practically feel her hypocrisy radiating off her in waves. Her footsteps echoed as she circled Samuel, assessing him. The frustrated mumble of rebellion against restraint ambled over the airwaves from the direction of mother's imperious tapping. "Honestly, Siobhan, you have the worst taste in the weaker sex."

I lifted my head, scratchily retorting, "Apples and trees, mother. Apples and trees." She threw an unimpressed glare over her shoulder at my reference to her brief affair with my father—it had been a major disappointment to my mother when it turned out he had a spine _and_ a heart. My grandmother had had him killed not long after I was born, but that was a different story.

Grabbing Samuel's chin, my mother dug her fingers into his cheeks and chin, staring directly into his eyes. Keeping my ears open, I glanced around, faking restlessness and pain to get a better idea of who all was in the room. My cousins were still standing on either side of Samuel; if it weren't for the silver chain in their hands, I would have encouraged their captive to rip their throats out with relish—not, of course, that he would have required coercion.

I had to find someway out of these chains, someway to get Caleb, Sam, and probably kill James on my way out—that would make a statement. Unfortunately, the torture had left me weaker than I needed to be to take on my mother with any sort of confidence. I might be her superior in overall power, but my mother had years more experience and fought dirty. For me to challenge her, I would need all my blood—there was power in blood and without all mine, I would be the underdog.

My mother would die at my hands, but that day wouldn't be today.

Mother was on one of her monologues when I returned my full attention back to the room. I turned my eyes to James and called, "Hey, Jimmy boyo! Have any of the ladies stopped laughing at you when you take your shorts off?" My smile was full of cruelty and malice. True to form, Cousin Jim's face turned red and he took a step toward me. Backhanding him, mother paused her insults to Sam to tell Jim to stand still and hold the damn Were. Mother ripped a small throwing knife from her hip, landed it in my thigh and went back about her business. I grunted and ignored the flare of new pain. It'd missed bone and major blood vessels so I wasn't worried; as far as I was concerned, scar tissue was past being an issue. "So that's a 'no,' then. Aw, poor Jimmy! Is that why you and Angus seem so cozy, nowadays? Both of yeh can't get any ladies—or lads, yes I remember those magazines, Angus!—to stop dyin' of laughter as soon as they see those tiny breakfast sausages hangin' between your legs! I know I never stopped."

James and Angus both were ready to rip me apart limb from limb. Samuel was throwing questioning glances at me whenever my mother stopped to reprimand her idiot nephews. Admittedly, I was bound and severely injured and taunting men twice my size, which on a normal day is pretty crazy considering they were spellcasters, themselves. Not up to my caliber, but they had been able to create that illusion in Mercy's garage. When I began outright guffawing at them, barely able to breathe, my sanity case was far from helped. "God, you're dumb as stumps and impotent! How I wouldn't want to be either of you. I bet you're both still countin' with your fingers once you're done draggin' your knuckles around like Neanderthals. But honestly, I've seen women more well hung than either of you goons, and they could do multiplication!" Shaking my head, I sidled down a bit. My mother had stepped to the wall to choose from her multitude of torture devices and weapons. I used the opportunity to get in my final jab. "It's a good thing I'm to inherit the family line because if it were left solely to the both of you, we'd be bones before we got heirs, waitin' for you to figure out that you can't make babies bonin' each other." James roared and let go the chain running toward me while Angus grabbed the closest blunt object and started toward me.

Jimmy landed two punches on me when the curse I'd begun muttering kicked in. The second time he touched my bare skin, his hand stuck and his face went slack but for his eyes. It was a mind control spell that, while powerful, usually was dangerous because of its need for skin-on-skin contact to connect the spellcaster with the subject. His eyes were all that showed his thoughts were his own, but his voluntary actions were not. Angus yelled at James to move out of the way, his club swinging like a major-league batter's for my ribs while I commanded James to duck down into the line of the bat. James' eyes were terrified, realizing his mistake and knowing exactly what I was doing when Angus realized he was too late to stop the club's motion. Just before the wood smashed into my cousin's thick skull, I held his gaze and growled viciously, "I warned you to keep your hands off my son, Jimmy boyo."

The chains holding Samuel loosened just enough and I murmured a small charm to undo the lock, watching the silver slither to the floor like a waterfall. Samuel, not Sam, but normally gentle, kind, somewhat broken Samuel, took the opportunity to leap at Angus and methodically beat him into a pulpy grey and red smear on the floor.

And in the moments between James' blood splattering and dripping from my face and Sam leaping through the air, my eyes locked with my mother's. In that instant, my lips already forming the words that would knock her out, I promised that I would come back for her, and I would crush her like a bug beneath my palm. I was tired of running and tired of games.

For a fraction of a second, just as she was collapsing, I caught something in Mother's eyes I never thought I would see: real, fear.

I knew two things for certain as the grunts and thumps of Samuel's retribution echoed in the chamber. With the image of my unconscious mother in my eyes, I decided that I would do anything necessary to keep Samuel for myself, as my mate. My wolf howled in exasperated approval, having known I would eventually come to the same conclusion given enough time and somewhat angry for having taken so long to come that end.

And, with the surprising agreement of my wolf, that my mother would pay for all she'd done, and it wouldn't be quick or painless or merciful. We would take our time and make her suffer for our boy and the pain our mate endured under that blasted silver. We would let her live and worry for the day that we came seeking retribution. Her end would be cold and calculated right down to her last drawn breaths.

No one who threatened our son or our mate would ever live to tell the tale. That was for damn certain.


End file.
